Scott pilgrim: world's worst assassin
by Notthegovernment
Summary: A mysterious phonecall tells scott that he has accidentally killed a UAA ranked assassin, thus entering him into the UAA. Will Scott battle his way out, or will he hide like a pu... coward. I don't know why I made this, just bored. Rated M as a precaution.
1. Chapter 1

Scott Pilgrim

Slightly less fine hours

We start off with our hero (Scott, a nerdy Canadian twenty something) awesomely making out with his girlfriend Ramona at his new place after defeating the last of her evil ex's (for more details, read the damn books before you start reading some idiot's fanfic). All is not how it seems however, as Scott will soon come to learn the true magnitude of what he has just done...

"RING RING MOTHER F-ERS!" Scott's phone chirps. Scott, his tongue trying furiously to leap down Ramona's throat, doesn't even notice and continues to make out. A few moments later it curses at him again, this time getting Scott to elicit an annoyed grunt as he continues to totally devour her mouth like a super stud. Another ring and he breaks off of Rammy' s face and pulls the phone out of his pocket. "Ugh, What?! I'm busy trying to score!" Ramona turns red at this and leaves the room "WAIT! It... That... It totally wasn't..."

The man on the other end speaks up, "No sir, this can't wait" "NOT YOU! MY GIRLFRIEND... ugh, what do you want?" The man can be heard typing, then he speaks again, his cold calculated voice sounding like he had already said this kind of thing a million times "According to our records, at around midnight two months ago you killed Gideon Gordon Graves, head of Gideon enterprises, is that correct Mr. Pilgrim?"

Scott's face got paler, his expression getting graver (see what I did their?... Ah screw you, that was gold) "Uh, I defeated him... and he like... Blew up into coins... I never really thought of it like I... Killed him...or anything.." the phone guy spoke up again "In the censored European version you did. Now, we're very sorry we hadn't called you sooner to tell you this but-" he was cut off by Scott, now in a totally manly state of pure panic and pants shitting terror "OH GOD AM I GOING TO JAIL?! IS THAT WHAT THIS IS?! OH GOD I'M GONNA GET SHANKED AND THEN I'LL GO TO THE SHOWERS AND-" Scott was then cut off by the phone dude, who was seriously trying to not laugh... err, cry at this display of manly weeping "No, I'm not calling to arrest you... I'm not even sure that's a thing you can do... Anyway, I'm calling to inform you that you have killed Gideon Gordon Graves, a genius, a millionaire, a inventor, and the world's seventh greatest assassin. Do you know what this means for you?"

Scott didn't wipe a few tears from his manly face before speaking into the phone "Do I get a medal? or like... a plaque honoring the service I did for humanity? Or a Nobel prize?" Scott was already thinking of an awesome speech that would totally blow the socks off of those close minded Swiss (Note: I am highly aware that the Nobel prize committee is a Swedish institution, but he isn't) "No. Being the person who killed the seventh greatest assassin makes YOU the new seventh greatest assassin. As a new member of the UAA you have been sent an official UAA credit card, a license to kill, and a complementary 1-up. Any questions Mr. Pilgrim?"

Scott was so confused right now, he felt like this was a dream, or a really bad scene written by a talentless hack (hey! I try my hardest! and these meta references don't make sense, so you [I?] should probably stop making them) or... "excuse me, sir?... are you fucking with me?" a pause "Cuz it seems like this is something someone would say to fuck with... someone. Did Wallace put you up to this? Are you one of his gay friends?" another awkward pause before the UAA man spoke "No, I'm not, and I'd like to ask that you keep the language civilized. You're an assassin, not a barbarian. Also if I was gay how could I have BANGED YOUR MOM LAST NIGHT! SERVED, BOY!" the phone slammed into the receiver loudly and Scott was left with an empty dial tone.

Scott sat their a few more moments, staring emptily into space before closing his phone, setting it down on the table and heading to his bedroom. He found Ramona, sitting on his bed reading a book. "Who was that?" she asked, not looking up from her gripping tale of suspense and mystery. Scott raised his hand and put a smile on his face, then sighed and slumped "I dunno. Some guy. Says I'm an assassin working for the USA or something... Did Gideon ever mention that he was one of the worlds best assassins?" Ramona thought for a moment, before replying "World's*. And maybe. He probably said something about it, and I probably wasn't listening." Scott opened his idiot mouth and uttered "Wow, that last sentence made you sound like kind of a bitch."

Ramona rolled her eyes "Call your girlfriend a bitch. Great way to make up for telling a stranger your trying to screw her." Scott scrambled for a reply. "Ha-ha, I just said it made you SOUND like a bitch, I never called you... y'know... wanna make out again?". Ramona stared blankly at him for what felt MINUTES. Finally "Fine.".

**NIGHT SALVAGED!**

+1 BARTER

Scott wakes up to a smiling pip boy, telling him "you are now well rested". He yawns, stretches, and then gets out of bed, censor bar over his now totally exposed junk (I could have him in boxers, but screw you reader, that's unrealistic) before he slips on some underwear and pants (HA!). He walks into the kitchen and pulls out the box of store brand fruit flavored rings, simultaneously opening the fridge to get his weird Canadian bagged milk. He pours them both into a bowl and digs in, chewing loudly. He flips his phone open and nearly spits out his cereal. The screen reads "You have: 17 new messages from WALLACE WELLS, you're cool gay former roommate." He hits playback and is greeted to Wallace's oddly shaky voice "Hey, guy. Uh, could you call me back? Because, for some reason my computer says you're like, now registered with the UAA. Crazy right? So yeah, call me back real soon, all right?" the next message starts "Hey, hi, uh, still haven't heard from you... I REALLY need you to call me back mkay, just to... y'know, sort all this out. So yeah, call me back." next one "SCOTT CALL ME! CALL ME AND TELL ME THIS IS A MISTAKE! JUST CALL AND SAY SOMETHING YOU SON OF A BITCH!" the next fourteen get progressively less understandable, with Wallace sounding drunk by the 7th and straight up sh*t faced by the 13th.

All Scott is able to discern is that apparently he is in danger, and that some guy would be coming later to take his rank... that's a little foreboding. Scott hits callback and waits... for a full .02 seconds before Wallace picks up and blurts right into Scott's ear "WTF MAN?! I CALLED YOU A BAZILLION TIMES! I THOUGHT YOU WHERE DEAD ALLREADY! WTF!" unsettling pause before Scott speaks up "nice to hear from you too... So, what exactly is this all about? Like, what is... what is this? And how do you know about this?" -Audible sigh from Wallace- "How many times have I told you this, I WORK FOR UAA! I've said it like, a lot." Scott's eyes nearly bulge out of his head at this shocking development "YOU'RE AN ASSASSIN? I'LL HAVE TO KILL YOU?! ARE YOU GOOD?" Wallace face palms so hard he leaves an anime style red outline on his head "NO. I work in the financing department. I work at a desk you... look, all I wanted to tell you was that you have $25,000 Canadian dollars added to you UAA credit card... I can hear you fist pumping through the phone. That's BAD. That means someone paid the fee to fight you! They could be their any minute!"

Scott speaks up "My life is only worth $25,000 Canadian money's? I thought it would be at LEAST $450,000... maybe even $500,000... How much is your life worth?" "First off your life ain't worth jack, he paid around 55,000 and most of that money goes to his travel fees or to the UAA. Second, FOCUS! I'm trying to make sure you DON'T DIE. LIKE A GOOD FORMER ROOMMATE. Listen, I stayed up all night and have a bunch of fake identities set up for you, we can pick one, you can hide out and..." he's cutoff "RELAX. I GOT this. I'll beat this poser, tell the URA I'm not interested, and then I'll add 'totally badass ninja assassin' onto my resume and chalk this whole misunderstanding up as a win." he defiantly slaps the phone shut and pours his soggy cereal in the drain like a boss. "I got $25,000 richer, I can coat my whole PAD in cereal." He's about to wake up Rammy and tell her the good news when he hears a knock at the door. He puts on an ironic wolf shirt and opens the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Scott Pilgrim

About to fight some guy

Scott is greeted by a Ups person, carrying two cardboard boxes. The man looked about 19, with scrawny limbs and curly red hair poking out from the sides of his hat. He was dressed in shorts and a short sleeved shirt, all with the Ups logo plastered over them. "Mr. Scott Pilgrim?" the Ups guy asks, his voice high pitched and slightly nasally. Scott nodded. "Sign here sir." He said, handing Scott a clipboard and a simple black pen. Scott skimmed the papers, saw the sender was UAA and signed on the dotted line. The guy put the clipboard away and handed Scott the first box. "Here is your official UAA kit. Complete with a license to kill, a UAA credit card, a free t-shirt and mouse pad, an electronic map, and a complementary 1 up."

"Awesome... what's in the second box?" he asks, pointing to the delivery man's second box (nick cage face), still tucked under his arm.

"Oh this box?" the guy says, holding the box out in front of him. Scott nodded. "Oh, nothing really. just... YOUR DEATH!" He screamed, tearing open the top and reaching in with one hand, while flipping his hat backwards with the other. His expression changes from creepy smile to awkward leer as he digs through the box "Uh, yeah. this is actually your box... that one I gave you is kinda the... yeah... musta mislabeled them..." He drops the box to the ground and the t-shirt and a few bubble wrapped baggies fall out. He takes the box Scott is dumbly holding and removes the top. He whips out two pistols from the box and aims right at Scott's chest.

Scott screams a totally manly war cry while pulling a daring tactical retreat, running back into the house and sliding behind the counter as the unbelievably inaccurate gunfire misses by mere inches, slamming into the walls and floor around him. The ups man curses as his guns click empty. He tears open his shirt, revealing a black combat Jacket with ammunition pouches, grenades, and knives. "WHAT THE HELL DUDE?! MY LANDLORD IS GONNA FREAK! JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" Scott shreiks, peeking his head out from aroud the kitchen counter.

"Relax dude, this game doesn't have destructive environment, remember?" the ups ,man says, motioning to the unscuffed floor and walls. Scott gave a short "heh." and raised his eyebrows befor the man spoke again. "and if you read my hat you'd know that I am 'DEATH DELIVERY', the 8 greatest assassin in the world and runner up for Ups Toronto employee of the month!" He raised his guns again and fired. Scott yelped and retreated, drawing the "Power of Understanding" (read the graphic novel) from his inventory. The guns clicked empty again and Scott jumped up from his hiding spot and charged... out the back door and into the yard. Death Delivery (DD for short now, because I'm lazy) sighed and chased after him, shoulder bashing through the screen door before it closed.

Scott tried to vault over the shoulder high wood fence, but slammed face first into the invisible wall, falling back into his yard. "DAMN YOU DEVELOPERS! DAMN YOU AND YOUR DEUS EX MACHINAS!" He roared before turning around to see DD frowning, pointing his guns at him.

"C'mon man, your the number 7 assassin, fight me for god sakes! stop being such a pussy and just throw a hit!" He whined,

"You have GUNS!" Scott shouted back, running to the other side of the yard.

"You have a sword!" replied DD, firing another volley. Scott rolled out of the way of the barrage, but caught a stray in the abdomen. Blood splattered out of the... now mysteriously closed wound.

"OW! THAT REALLY... Kinda hurt? Huh, I thought getting shot would be a little more painful... huh. I guess I was being KIND of a drama queen." Scott rubbed where the bullet had hit, without even a scratch on him. He then turned his attention to DD, who cracked a smile while reloading his guns. Scott charged him, sword drawn, head first. just as DD cocked the hammer back Scott slammed his sword into the middle of DD's bullet proof vest, slamming him back against the wall and cutting a deep gash in the black Kevlar. Scott swung a hard haymaker at DD and sent him flying into the corner of the yard, rolling twice before bashing into the wooden fence. Scott charged him again and swung hard right with his sword, but was blocked by DD's expertly timed knife. DD proceeded to kick Scott back before sheathing the knife and pulling his guns back out.

Scott hopped to his knees and raised his sword as the bullets came at him. (WARNING! DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!) He expertly swung and swatted the rounds out of the air, the hot lead skipping and bouncing on the grass behind him as they were deflected off Scott's blade. When DD's guns ran empty a fourth time (It's a video game... novel... story... thing. Repetition is needed to give fairness to the player!) Scott planted his sword in the ground and ran at him bare handed, a wicked smile growing on him. He punched DD across the face before combo-ing a few hits to the gut, and finishing with a roundhouse that sent him flying across the yard and slammed him into the back wall of Scott's house. He wheezed as he tried to stand, drawing a combat knife from his vest.

Scott cared not for knives! He was consumed by a feeling of... euphoria! His eyes dilated and his heart beat like a revving motor as he charged into battle. DD swung at Scott with the knife, but whiffed clean over him as Scott ducked and head butted him, smashing him back into the wall. DD swung down hard but Scott sidestepped and landed a hard blow to the back of his head, knocking his hat off and exposing his curly red hair. DD attempted to pimp slap Scott away, just to catch his breath a bit, but Scott wasn't having any of that! He caught his wrist mid flight and slammed his other palm into DD's elbow, nearly breaking his arm backwards and causing him to yelp in pain.

Scott's eyes glowed red as he chucked his human punching bag across the lawn, landing him right next to Scott's massive sword. Scott Strode over triumphantly and pulled his sword out of the ground, while DD got to his knee's and scramble for his gun. Scott cackled and swung down, the sword tearing through the Kevlar, skin, muscle, and bone like it was tissue paper, cutting down though his shoulder, into his chest, and all the way down to his belt buckle.

Death Delivery screamed in pure agony, and Scott's smile faded, his eyes returned to normal, and he was left with a puzzled expression as blood spewed onto his face and a red puddle formed on the grass. Scott was now screaming too, his eyes filled with horror at what he had done. "WHY?! WHY SCOTT?! COULDN'T YOU KILL ME IN ANY LESS PAINFUL WAY AUAUAGHHHH?!" DD screamed, trembling in pain as blood continued to pour out of him.

Scott stumbled back, falling onto his arse as he let go of the sword, still fully embedded into his enemies ribcage. "I DUNNO! SOMETHING CAME OVER ME! WHY HAVEN'T YOU EXPLODED INTO COINS YET!"

"AUAUAGH! WHY THE FUCK WOULD I TURN INTO COINS?! WHAT CRAZY FAIRY TALE WORLD DO YOU LIVE IN?! AAAAGHGH!" He shakily brought his hand up and tore the pin out of the grenade on his vest. With a gasp he flicked the spoon off. Scott gave a great "NOO-!" before the resulting explosion catapulted him backwards and through the screen door in a blast of fire, gore, and grass (What? all environments can be destroyed in a cut scene.) Scott cough and moaned, getting to his feet as the dust settled. His face turned green and bile welled up in his throat as he looked at the yard. DD's Lower body was still on it's knees, blood dropping out slowly in fat streams. his upper body was scattered in pieces around the yard, piles of it everywhere. Scott's sword was embedded into the wall a good foot. Lastly, with a dull thud, DD's head landed at Scott's feet, his eyes still wide with shock and his mouth still agape, silently letting out his last scream.

Scott turned away, tears welling up in his eyes. "Oh God" he thought "I killed him... and... I kinda liked it... oh.." he opened up his eyes and saw feet, well, more specifically well made Italian loafers, with feet (presumably) inside them. Scott raised his head and saw three men.

The fancy shoe man was thin, well dressed, had thin spindly limbs and a long thin face, a well maintained mustache and comb over, and lastly a blood red handkerchief in his breast pocket. The other two men were bigger, burlier, and carried weird pack on their backs and vacuum-y things in their hands. The suited man spoke first, with a devilish French accent "Ah, good show Monsieur Pilgrim! You have defeated your first adversary and defended your rank! I must say, I am a wee bit surprised as you really don't seem the killer type. BUT, zee's results speak for zemself, ah?"

Scott gazed dumbly as the two other guys strode passed him into the back yard. "Uh, hi. Who are you?" Scott asked.

"Gasp, where have my manners gone! I apologize profusely Monsieur Pilgrim. I am René Chauvin, vice president of the Canadian branch of zee UAA. I always come firsthand when high up UAA battles are being waged, so naturally I followed Mr. Devlin to here and now, here I be!" He said, lighting a cigarette that Scott hadn't even notice him drawing or putting in his mouth. "So Monsieur Pilgrim, When shall I schedule zee next fight?"

Scott didn't think for more than a second when he replied "Never. I'm not going to do this anymore."

Chauvin nearly broke out laughing, but managed to hold it in and merely chuckle a bit. "Silly Scott-y! You cannot just up and LEAVE zis game! You have to fight! You have to win! Now zen, when will it be? I promise, I'll even throw in a discount for being a good sport." he said, pinching Scott's cheek. Scott Swatted René's hand away, making René give a slight harrumph. The two men passed Scott again and walked out the door. "Fine zen. But be warned monsieur Pilgrim, Zey shall come for you, and shall keep coming for you until you are dead and zey have your rank. With zat, I bid you, adue ." He said venomously, giving a slight box before leaving through the front door, closing it behind him.

Ramona walked into the room, headphones in at full volume. She pulled them out when she noticed Scott "Hey, what's u- OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPEND TO THE DOOR!" she said, just noticing the screen door was lying crumpled up in the missle of the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Scott Pilgrim

On the run! (Maybe?)

Nothing was left of Devlin's body. No organs, no limbs, not even a spec of blood on the grass. Whatever those guys did they definitely didn't half arse it. Scott sat on his back porch and stared at the scene, so lost in thought that it took him a few moments to notice Ramona tapping his shoulder. He looked into her eyes, stared at her face a few moments before looking down more and seeing Ramona had brought him some store brand chocolate cream filled disks (Not kidding, those exist). Scott nodded weakly and took one, but just held it, too wrapped in thought to eat it.

Scott had already gone through the fight, the strange men, and of course, the elephant in the room, watching Devlin kill himself right before Scott's eyes. He had already cried on her shoulder until he was out of tears, babbled incoherently until he was out of words, and ran through the events until they were etched play by play into his mind. Now he just had nothing to do until Wallace got here and they went over the next few months.

Scott had called about half an hour ago and told Wallace everything (excluding the sensation he got from fighting that guy). Wallace gave him an "I told you so" speech before agreeing to come over and walk him through his options.

Scott and Ramona sat in complete silence for a few more minutes before a knock was heard on the door. Ramona patted him on the shoulder and went to get it. She exchanged an awkward hello with Wallace before they both walked over to Scott. He was still staring at the yard, and hadn't even moved a muscle. Wallace sat next to him, still dressed in his nice work clothes and put his hand on Scott's shoulder. "So, before we begin, wanna talk about what happened? I know people's first time can be... difficult." (author's note: that's what she said.) Scott shook his head, still blankly staring at the spot in the center of the yard.

"K then... So, what do you think you want to do?" Wallace asked, still looking intently at Scott, gazing into his shell shocked face.

Scott didn't speak for a long time, still caught up in the enormity of what he had done. He finally spoke, softly at first. "I want to leave. You said it yourself, you could talk to your bosses, get me out of this, and then I can come back." He finally looked at Wallace, his eyes tired and desperate.

"Yeah, like I said, I've got a bunch of fake identities all lined up, I've even got some stupid movie references in them if you want. You can lie low for a while and I can talk my boss into letting you out... Not to break the mood, but you know you'll owe me for like, the rest of your life, right?" Wallace asked. Scott gave a weak smile, then turned to Ramona

"So," Scott began "What do you say. Shall we pack up and get to the airport?"

Ramona just stared at him for a long time, her expression changing from pained, to worried, at ease, and back again "I..." She trailed off, rubbing the back of her neck. She lolled her head a little and sighed. Scott put hiss hand on her knee and rocked it a little, smiling "I... Don't know. I have other friends here... And my boss has been hinting at a promotion for a while now... I mean... I'd have to throw my career away, you'd have to throw YOUR career away, and... no offense... but I don't really... MIND you being an assassin and all... It gives good cash, your good at it, I can help you in a rough spot, and, not to be a downer, but you never had issues killing people before. I mean... I think we should think about this a little more..."

Scott frowned and Wallace muttered something that sounded like "You trucking witch...". Scott replied shakily, now considering the thought "But... I never thought about... killing those guys... They were... well you said it yourself they were defeated. If I knew I was killing them... I..." He groaned a little.

Now it was Ramona's turn to look angry "What, would you NOT have fought for me if I called it Killing? Am I not worth it to you?" Scott searched for the words that were escaping him. Wallace simmered in silent rage, just suppressing his urge to beat Ramona to a pulp.

"I never said I wouldn't, it's just... After today... I'm kinda going through an internal crisis. I mean... Am I just a killer? How many of those guys even deserved it... What was that feeling I got when I was beating that guy down... I'm just... Not in the right state... But no, I'd do anything for you." Scott's expression went a little harder as he thought "And what about you?" Ramona gave a puzzled look "Am I not worth it to you? I've killed seven men for you, I changed my ways, I learned the power of love and... yeah... Am I just not worth a couple bucks to you?" Scott spat bitterly, finally rising to his feet (and realizing just then that his legs where totally asleep.)

Ramona stood as well "Look man, I'm not saying I don't love you, and I'm not saying you haven't done a lot for me, all I'm asking is can we afford to leave? We'll be living on practically nothing, we'll have to learn a whole new life, and even when we do come back we'll have to completely start from scratch. I'm just saying that's a lot to ask for, man!" She replied, her voice rising.

Scott balled his fists "Oh, and kill seven evil dudes is just a nice little favor to ask? What the hell do you call that? Your the one who got ME obsessed, you rollerbladed into my head, made me fight those guys, and then almost left because of stupid knives!" He roared.

Ramona looked at him furiously, the words stinging her deep, much deeper than she had been before. She tried to say something back, but the longer she thought, the harder the words stung. Her fury broke into misery as her resolve weakened, now on the verge of tears. Scott softened up and hugged her as she began to tear up. She tried to resist a little but gave in and returned the hug. Wallace finally spoke up "Listen, it's been a long day for everyone. Let's just... calm down and talk this out like adults." He paused "we'll be like 3 little Fonzie's, and what is Fonzie like?"

"Cool?" Ramona replies softly, in between whimpers.

"That's right. We're gonna be cool."

Scott smiled "I have no idea what you guys are talking about."

A few minutes later, they were sitting around the kitchen table, Ramona and Wallace sipping ice cold beers, Scott drinking Coke. "So, Wallace, I guess the better question is, ARE THERE any other options except hide it out and fight till' I die... twice." Wallace thought for a moment, taking a long swig of his drink.

"Technically, yes. There is another way. If you where to be number 1 your allowed to resign, and give your rank to someone of your choosing... but... the number one... He isn't exactly easy to kill... and some of the higher ups may be hard for you to take out too..."

Ramona took a long drag on a cigarette before putting her free hand over Scott's, now cooled by the beer she was holding. "Listen Scott, I get it if you don't want to do this... and we have that 25,000... We could try to hide out." Scott smiled a little, then looked at Wallace.

"Wallace, how long do you think it would take for you to clear me out of the System?" He asked.

Wallace sighed, looking into his drink as if it would make the answer less painful "Processing, paperwork, and political b.s will be six months..." Scott and Ramona took that in with pained expressions. "And actually getting Chauvin or Flo... the president of the Canadian branch... to give me the authority and papers... we'd be looking at a year long process."

Scott and Ramona thought in silence for a few moments, taking in there situation and options. Then, they conferred in whispers as Wallace put his fingers in his ears. When they were done and Wallace was allowed to pull fingers out of ears, Ramona spoke first "Well... where could we go?" Wallace smiled and pulled out his phone, showing them the files he had already set up.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS! I WANT TO KNOW WHAT TO IMPROVE ON, WHAT ELEMENTS I COULD ADD, IF I SHOULD EVEN GO ON, IF I'VE TOTALLY GOT ALL THE CHARACTERS WRONG, JUST LEAVE A COMMENT ABOUT SOMETHING! I NEED AT LEAST ONE COMMENT BEFORE I PUBLISH THE NEXT CHAPTER!**


	4. Chapter 4

**PLEASE COMMENT! I WANT TO KNOW HOW I COULD IMPROVE! COMMENT! DO IT NOW! **Well, after you read this chapter of course.

Scott Pilgrim

Now with chicken

James's private runway: you will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy... nah, I'm just messing with you, the place is actually pretty legit. Scott's plane was set to leave in 20 minutes, taking him and Ramona to the America's to hide. Scott had called all his friends and they where having a going away party in the hangar... except they didn't know they where going away! They thought they were all going on a friends vacation... oh dear! Scott had invited Neil, Stephen, Stacy, Wallis, Julie (for no other reason than she would bitch more about not being invited than about how lame the party was) Knives (she didn't show), and Joseph (he and Stephen had actually broken up, which led to an awkward phone conversation. Instead Stephen brought his new boyfriend, Marcus). Ramona had a few friends from work that Scott actively avoided, secretly suspecting them all of being assassins.

Drinks were being drunk, conversations were being had, and unpleasant introductions between complete strangers were being made, when Scott hopped up on a supply crate and started tapping a plastic cup. It took a while for everyone to actually shut up and look at Scott (on account of how loud a plastic cup is) but when all eyes were finally on him, he made his announcements. "Ahem. Friends, family, other, lend me your ears. I believe an apology is in order. I have lied to every single one of you. I have not received free tickets from Nigerian Royalty for a round week long trip to the America's. None of you are coming with me except the love of my life, my snes... and Ramona. Now, the reason I-"

Neil spoke up "So I packed that whole suitcase for nothing?! ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!"

"Shut up Neil, I'm kinda in the middle of something, god."

"I fucked up my whole work schedule for like a week, what the hell man?!"

"I just wanted the party to be mellow and not really depressing! I don't-"

"It's depressing now, idiot!" Julie shouts, almost spilling her beer.

"Julie! Now, this is actually a going away party. Me and Ramona are gonna be gone for at least a year. We can't tell you why but-"

Neil pipes in "Why?"

"What part of I can't tell you don't you get? Now shut up! As I was saying before you guys started being dicks, me and Ramona are gonna be gone for at least a year. We can't have any contact with you guys, and We won't be able to come into work for a while... Stephen is that cool? Totally forgot to ask."

Stephen shook his head "No, you're fired." (oh yeah, he became the manager... Scott is still a bus boy.)

"Oh, that sucks... can I have my job back when I get back?"

"No. You can apply for it again but it'll probably be taken. Why can't you just show up to work?"

Scott frowned, his face now slightly red "Didn't we just go over this? I can't tell you guys! Now, I know you guys are going to have a hard time without us, being secondary characters and all... some of you third... and a few of you just some extras. But-"

Ramona's work friends and Marcus broke in (tough crowd) "Hey!"

Scott yelled, starting to lose his temper "Extras do not speak!"

Neil "Why?"

"SHUT UP Moku... Neil! Now, you guys are all pretty cool... MOST of the time... and I hope you'll wish us luck on our trip. See you guys later." Scott awkwardly ended his speech and hoped off the crate. Ramona and him walked through the angrily staring crowd and out onto the tarmac, where James greeted them.

James was about 5'7", fairly skinny, and very white. Jet black Hair grew in sporadic patches around his chin and cheeks, and poked out from under his yellow helmet in a few messy bangs. The goggles he wore where pitch black, blocking his eyes from view. He spoke with the slightest hint of an Ontarian accent "Well, You folks ready to go?"

Scott looked at Ramona, who looked back somberly, then nodded. Scott then turned to James and nodded. "Great!" James said "Now then, where's yer' luggage? Wallace told me I'd need to pick you two back up in approx a year. You seem a little... under packed." He said, pointing to their only equipped item, Ramona's new bag (the old one kinda got sliced in half, remember?)

No, this is it. I've got a subspace portal in here... It's like this big semi dimensional zone where-" She was cut off (What a rude chapter!)

"Please, you don't have to go explaining subspace to me, I got my PhD in the subject!" Dr. James replied. Ramona shrugged and handed him the bag. James stepped over to his plane (a small six seat Astra Gulfstream) and haphazardly tossed the bag through the open door. He smiled and motioned to the door.

Ramona huffed and stormed on board, picking up her bag off the ground. Scott followed her into the plane itself. James slid in behind them and closed the door, then slinked between them to open the passenger compartment. To say that Scott and Ramona where surprised would be akin to saying that burrito's are tasty. The only thing that kept Scott's jaw from falling off where the laws of physics. They expected an actual interior, with chairs, in flight movies, and carpeted floors. Instead they where greeted by what looked like the inside of a cargo plane, with a few crates scattered about, a bare grate floor exposing the cargo, fuel, and electronics of the plane, and walls a crude basic white.

"Well, make yourselves at home!" James chirps before slipping into the cockpit. Scott and Ramona step into the passenger compartment, dumbfounded. They just step about, looking for anything that would suggest they where in a luxury private jet. A voice blares over the intercom "-screeching intercom sounds- Oh, right, I almost forgot. those crates don't have anything in 'em, so you can use 'em as you see fit." Scott and Ramona look at each other stupefied, before each sitting on there own crates, facing opposite windows. Ramona looked out and saw the party dispersing, getting into cars, calling rides, and dispersing back into the scenery.

"Shit" Ramona remarked dully "We should have made a Casablanca reference."

Scott thought for a moment, then replied "Frankly my dear, I've never seen that movie." Ramona rolls her eyes.

The plane ride was bumpy, long, and really boring, so I skipped it. Instead they have now landed at the small airport outside the town of el Potosí, Texas.

Now here's where shit really does get scummy and villain-y. The air smelt of smoke and sweat, the small runway they got off on was pock marked with potholes and trash, and the few people they did see didn't want to see them. Scott and Ramona slowly went into the main lobby of the airport, which again was littered with trash and empty save for a scowling woman sitting behind the main counter. "Let me handle this." Scott told Ramona, tapping her hand before strutting up like a sir. The woman looked to be about 50...thousand, with grey hair, wrinkled features, a decrepit skin tone, and a horrifying number of warts and scabs growing off her equally malformed face. "Excuse me miss, we have a driver under your... employ that is supposed to take us into town. Would you happen to know where he is?"

"Piss off, you red bastard! We ain't seen your damn driver!" She blasted, nearly blowing out Scott's eardrum. Scott backed up from the counter, slowly turning back to face Ramona.

"Suave" she muttered sarcastically. Scott was about to idiotically open his mouth and say something he would regret when the main door opened up. The man didn't so much enter the room as he exploded into it, charging in a mad dash to reach the front counter. He was fat, wore ill fitting and stained clothing, and had a neck beard the size of Quebec.

"So sorry I'm late boss" he wheezed, taking in deep pants as he leaned against the counter "I got stuck in traffic, then I spilled my coffee, then I got a phone call that I REALLY needed to take, it's from my mom, y'know, the senile one? Apparently she needed to ask me if-"

"SHUT UP!" The woman screamed, to which the man stumbled back "THESE DIRTY HIPPIES REQUIRE YOUR ASSISSTENCE!" She wailed, pointing accusingly at Scott and Ramona, finger so close to Scott's face that the inch long nail grazed along the surface of his skin, filling him with a queasy feeling of dread.

The fatty looked at them quizzically, then the light bulb finally went off, and he fell to his knees, hands in praying position "Oh geez, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to offend you or anything, I didn't realize you needed my help or nothing! I'm so sorry, please don't walk out on me, I really need this job and if I lose another customer I'm gonna-"

Interruption world record, hear we go as Ramona holds up a hand "Dude, just chill. We just got here, it's all good. Just... I dunno, take us to..." She reached into her bag and drew out the address they would be staying at, scrawled on a piece of yellow note paper. " ...7448 pit street. Please?"

The man smiled in relief and stood up "Oh thank you! Your a woman saint!" He praised, throwing an arm up as he kissed her hand. When he broke off the kiss, Rammy chuckled lightly and wiped her hand off on her jacket, making a mental note to surgically remove that hand and destroy her jacket in a controlled explosion. "Well, right this way mister... um... uh..."

Scott spoke up "Scott pi-!" Ramona gave a sharp 'eep' and held Scott mouth shut (With the hand she intended to keep). Scott had completely forgotten they had cover names and stories... and what they where.

"Firion. Firion and Maria Leon." She said, hand slowly releasing Scott's face.

"Oh right, well, follow me Mr. and Mrs. Leon!" He said, Shuffling back to the Main door. Scott and Ramona where right behind him, exchanging apologetic and furious glances respectively. The large man swiftly flips around, and Scott runs straight into him, stumbling backwards and falling flat on his ass (arse? which do Canadians use? Screw it, I'm saying 'arse' from here on out.) "I completely forgot, how rude of me! Sorry, my name is Bill, Bill Gazpa. Pleased to be acquainted with you Mr. and Mrs. Leon." He said, sticking his big sweaty hand out to shake again.

"No thanks" Ramona squeaked squeamishly, (Real poet, ain't I?) Retracting in near horror "Already shook your hand, Remember?" Scott slowly stood, trying not to attract his attention."

"Ha, so? You can never be too sincere!" Bill joyously boasted, grabbing Ramona's other hand and thrashing it violently up and down. When he finally released her, her hand was coated with a slick layer of sweat and grease. Her eye twitched as Bill turned around and proceeded out the door. Scott guided her out as Bill held the door open for them. He guided them along the empty street until they reached his car, a black town car like vehicle with mismatched hubcaps. He unlocked the car and opened the back door for the couple.

They scrambled in and then watched, as Bill Shoved himself into the car, like a fat square block trying to shove itself into a round metal hole. After what felt like ten minutes of struggling, Bill finally crammed himself into the drivers sheet and closed the door behind him. "Well, off we go!" He chirped, firing up the engine and awkwardly pulling out.

As they drove through the little town of el Potosi, there hearts sank. The buildings where ramshackle messes of wood and concrete, the streets filled with smog, the people dirty, bitter, and hungry. Bill explained that the "strong el Potosi style air" comes from the town's massive iron mine, which was also the towns main source of income. The town was founded by a drunk entrepreneur, when his wife claimed she had been walking when she tripped over a massive lump of silver. Being drunk, the man immediately believed her and immediately invested the rest of his money into a massive mine. Three days later he was told that the new mine had no traces of silver, just a bunch of iron. Scott stopped caring at that point and stopped listening, thus missing the part where the man killed himself with a raw lump of iron ore.

After twelve minutes through the dreary slog the car pulled up in front of there new home. It actually didn't look half bad. It was a greenish teal color, with a black slate roof. It actually wouldn't be that bad... if it wasn't the size of a big tool shed. Ramona Shuffled towards the house, dazed, as Scott thanked and tipped Bill. He swiftly nodded and sped off.

Scott strode across the lawn (Completely dead from choking on the rancid air) and reached under the mat, where Wallace said they would leave his key. Scott unlocked the door and held it open for Ramona. The house had 4 rooms. A bathroom right off the entrance hallway, a living room at the end of it, a kitchen connected and separated by a counter, and on the right of the entrance and left of the kitchen was there bedroom. Ramona tromped in and collapsed on the couch, sighing in a mix of exhaustion and anger. She rolled onto her front lazily, eyes closed. "Ugh, why did I let you talk me into this?" she asked.

"Because I love you?" Scott replied, hanging his jacket on the doornob to there bedroom. "And because I begged you with my adorable puppy dog eyes and explained that I could be killed at any moment if I stayed in Toronto." Ramona Rolled her eyes under her eye lids.

"I could live with the first and the third thing. It was definitely those damn puppy dog eyes. But know this: I'm never gonna fall for those eyes ever again, ever. Not after this shit."

"That's not true and you know it." Scott replied Haughtily "No woman can resist my charm, especially the eyes. 'OH PWEESE, WET ME MOVE SO I DON'T GET MY WITTLE HEAD CUT OFF', you never had a chance of resisting."

Ramona chuckled "True, I guess I will always be a slave to your boyish charm. Damn."

"And me a slave to my brain being totally fucked up since you rolled on through it."

"Hmmm. I guess we're even then. Hey, could you do me a favor?"

Scott looked over his shoulder, as he had been snooping around in the cupboards and fridge for some food (No food, no silverware, just dust.)

"Could you cut my hands off? I can still feel Bill's... juices on them... It's seeping into my skin..." She quivered, just thinking about his disgusting hands.

Scott smirked "Sorry, UAA rules. If I cut you I have to kill you."

"Damn. Again. Who knew a bunch of murderous sociopaths could be such stuck up bitches when it comes to rules." She stood up, finally opening her eyes. "Well, I'm gonna shower for a good hour to try and get this... feeling off me. If you hear a scream, the water is poisonous and I'm dead. Please give me a Viking funeral as per request."

"Yeah I remember, geez." Scott said, lying on the couch and flicking on the TV. Through the door Scott heard the water sputter to life and, hearing the definite lack of a scream, turned the TV up. For about the next few minutes, Scott flicked through the weird mix of Spanish and English channels, with a distinct lack of any interesting channels. Scott turned the TV off and headed to bed, just noticing it was 1 am. He opened up Ramona's bag and pulled out clean underwear. He stripped and switched to the undies, before tossing the dirty clothes in the corner and entering the bedroom. He slid under the covers and started to drift off.

About 45 minutes later, Scott felt Ramona slide into bed behind him, still slightly damp and still entirely naked. Scott was more awake now, her sizable chesticles and smooth belly pressing lightly against his back as her arm draped around him. "Oh-ho-ho. Are we feeling a little freaky tonight?" Scott asked sheepishly.

Ramona replied faintly "You wish. Too hot."

"I know I am." Scott said triumphantly.

"Ugh, remind me to punch your face when I'm not so tired."

Scott yawned "Dully noted." Scott drifted off with Ramona wrapped around him.


	5. Chapter 5

**AUTHOR NOTE: Longest chapter yet, and I hate how it turned out! I rewrote parts so many times, then just threw up my hands (well, not literally, as it would have sent my laptop flying as well) and said "FUCK IT!" and left it as is. Don't worry, there will be action****

**Scott Pilgrim**

Burnin' out

Scott's eyes slowly fluttered open, the world fading into and out of view as his brain tried to kick start from his deep slumber, his view twisted and spiraled in dizzying circles. He was completely drenched in sweat, sprawled out across the bed alone, his throat dry and his muscles weak. "Ugh…Ramona… Ramona!.. –Cough- Ramona!" He groaned, flopping weakly onto his side. He strained and fought the crushing weight of gravity as he attempted to sit himself up. Every muscle in his body fought against his command, as he desperately tried to get himself up and get some water.

After almost 3 minutes of struggle, he erected himself, panting with exhaustion (don't laugh, he is seriously in pain.). The floor dipped and tilted as Scott slowly stumbled into the hall, his vision diming as what little energy he had left quickly drained. The 2 or so dozen feet to the kitchen sink took agonizing minutes as Scott fought to stay awake. Finally, he half collapsed onto the counter and flopped his limp arm onto the faucet head. He roughly jerked it to the side and slid his head under it. The cool water might as well have been straight up adrenaline for all the energy it restored. He gulped down mouthful after delicious mouthful, nearly drowning on the rush of life energy entering his body, only breaking away from the stream after his gut had filled to capacity.

Scott sighed in relief, wiping his lips with the back of his sweat covered hand. He walked back to his bedroom, much steadier now than on the trip out. He looked over to the thermometer hanging on his bedroom wall (yes, that was always their) and nearly had a heart attack (great! Right after you claw life from the jaws of death you nearly fall right back into those jaws!) "108?! Christ, I could… it's so hot that… the… thing… um…" He awkwardly rambled, the snarky repose portion of his brain failing to come up with anything remotely cleaver. Thankfully, Ramona had left Scott a neatly folded pile of his clothes and a note… Scott set the note off to one side as he picked out a new pair of underwear and some sport shorts. He stripped out of his sweat stained socks and whitey tighties, tossing them into a corner. He stepped into his new briefs and slid them over his censored crotch, before putting on the shorts and opting to go shirtless.

He picked the note back up and opened it. "Gone to look for work (those 20 g's aren't going to last us the whole year or more) suggest you do the same. Love, Ramona, 9:00 am." Scott looked at his wrist before remembering that it was the twenty first century. He went back to the table in the living room and opened up his cell. It was 1:32. Scott put the phone in his pocked and thought for a moment "Hmmm, go walk around in 40 degree heat with air thick enough to walk on, or stay in and watch TV…hmmm… LOL!" Scott plopped down on the couch, snatched the remote up, and flicked the TV on. He surfed around a bit, seeing nothing particularly interesting, and finally settling on an old Lucas Lee movie.

For the next 10 or so minutes, Scott watched as Lee's character broke into a Korean missile silo, saved some girl, than having a Mexican standoff with some Korean guy with a ridiculous eye patch and a bionic hand. Scott laughed as Lucas said the cheesiest one liner ever (too stupid to write) before shooting the missile, dousing the Korean with rocket fuel and lighting a cigarette, causing the guy to burst into flames and topple off the platform. He got sad, as he now remembered that he legally killed this guy. He got off the couch and went to the fridge, hoping to get some refreshments.

Just like yesterday, there was nothing in the fridge. He opened up the freezer and pulled out some ice, hoping to keep himself cool as sweat continued to bead off of him. He reached into the cupboards… and silently cursed. No plastic bags. What was he supposed to do now, just hold the ice to his head like an idiot? Scott proceeded to just hold the ice to his head like an idiot and went back t the couch. Lucas and girl had just finished jumping away from the exploding base, and now had to escape from the on coming soldiers. Thinking fast, he grabbed his gun and COMMERCIAL! Scott sighs as the detergent commercial makes its empty lies about super cleaning power. He flips over a few more channels and is about to turn off the TV and do something that day when he notices something.

In the corner of the TV screen are the letters UAA. Scott changes channel, but the letters are gone. Flipping back, he finally watches what was on. A woman, pale and sickly, dressed in some weird black robes sat hunched over on a large gold throne, hands clasped over a staff, with a jewel encrusted silver cross inside a star of David as a head piece. The woman was smiling, with a gaze that Scott swore could pierce right into his soul. She finally spoke, with a high, echoing wheeze and a tone like a crypt keeper "Next caller? You're on 'dove tail'." A man spoke up, static and clicking abound.

"Hi, I'm Jeff Mather, and-

"Hello Mr. Mather,"

"Uh, hi. Hey, I really dig what you're saying, it really speaks to me, y'know, the whole 'kill the impure' thing, and... I was just wondering... Could I join the black dove society?"

The woman chuckled lightly, more of a hacking sound then anything else "But of course. The Black Doves accept everyone, so long as you are willing to follow the creed." She paused, readjusting herself in her seat to give a more direct view into the camera. "Remember, so long as there is evil lurking amongst the righteous, evil shall continue to strengthen-" Scott was starting to go numb, unable to turn away from her piercing gaze, which seemed to grow brighter by the minute. His hand went limp and dropped the ice cubes (what little of them was left) onto the wooden floor "to be a member of the Dove society is to give your whole being, physical and spiritual, to the cause of good. There is no higher calling in the world." Scott's arm raised, against his will (what little of it remained) and slowly moved behind the couch, to where is sword was propped up. "The dove society cannot refuse a request to join, because every man, woman, and child standing for the side of righteousness is a victory for not only morality, but for the entire species as well." Scott gripped the sword tightly and dragged it over to him, scraping the side of the blade along the couch "Heh, the only way we could refuse was if the man's soul was already too impure to save... but I digress. Those who are tainted beyond repair will get just desserts... one way or another."

Scott held the blade above his chest, the point lightly pressing against his sternum. Scott's phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him and causing him to break eye contact with the woman. He blinked twice, regaining control of himself, before putting the sword down and answering his phone, with no memory of what just happened. "hello?"

"Firion?" Ramona asked from the other end

"Oh hey Rammy, what's up?"

"Okay, first off it's Maria. Second I'm just on my lunch break and thought I'd give you a call, what's up? Have you found a job yet?"

Scott cleared his throat awkwardly "Uh, not exactly... what're you doing?"

Ramo- sorry, Maria sighed. "Have you even started looking yet?" Another awkward clearing of Scott now dry throat. "Are you sitting at the house watching TV?"

Firion laughed awkward" Another awkward clearing of Scott now dry throat. "Are you sitting at the house watching TV?"

Firion laughed awkwardly "No, what eh, what gave you that Idea? I've totally been looking for a job and man is the market rough! I'm glad you got a job and everything though, mission accomplished!"

Maria could be heard shaking her head "Firion, you are quite possibly the worst liar ever. I can hear the TV." Firion reached for the remote to turn off the TV, formulating a kick ass excuse when "Dude, just get off your lazy bum and get a job, okay?! Sheesh!"

"Fine, fine. Love you Maria!"

"Love you too, nerd!" she replied.

Scott flicked the TV off and threw a jacket on, before remembering he was practically on the surface of the sun. He Grabbed his wallet (now with license to kill and UAA licensed credit card) and opened the door. He was knocked on his as by the smell of methane, oil, and coal, the air thick and almost tinted piss yellow. He stood, now sweaty, light headed, and barely able to breathe. He put his shirt over his nose (choosing to sniff his BO all day than to smell this smelly smell that smells... smelly.) Heading down the street, Scott started to wish he chose that place in northern Siberia, and also started to wish he had brought a bottle of water. After about 7 minutes he realized he had no idea where he was, had no idea where he was going, and no idea how to get there. He looked around, trying to spot someone who didn't look like they would stab him to death the moment he opened his mouth... but they all looked pretty bad, so he chose a young woman, dressed in proper slut attire. "Hey, know where I could get some work around here?"

"Fuck ya'll yah skinny lil' up north piece a white* meat unedumacated prick! Ya'll runnin' round blabbin' all 'uh, I ain't got no cashola! Bitch find me a job!' you know where you can work? On my grand daddy's dick!" She replied.

"Uh, didn't catch a word. Could you repeat that?"

"Man, what is you, deaf? Okay, I say it real so youz can hear me. GO. FUCK. YO. Se-..." She thought for a moment, a mischievous grin growing on her face. "Ya'll know what? Never mind that other shit I just said. Go down to Abuelo Ave., you go talk to the other white ass honky, he'll set you up good!" she said, her tone now a light, playfully one.

Scott stared blankly. "Uh, thanks... where is Abuelo Ave.?"

"Oh, that my bad new guy! It be right down 1st Rd., down to yo right."

"Okay, thanks!" Scott replied, getting away from the nonsensical woman as fast as possible. Heading down 1st Rd. Scott eventually hits Abuelo Ave. and finds the job center, mysteriously with no line. He slides through the tinted black sliding doors and is greeted by a face full of fresh air. He pulls his shirt down and breathes in hard, filling his lings with his first whiff of fresh oxygen in ten minutes. Then a man spoke, and his heart nearly stopped.

"Oh, hello Mr. Leon, pleasure to see you again!" Bill Gazpa called out from behind the job center desk. Scott face palmed hard enough to kill anyone who wasn't as awesome, before approaching Gazpa himself.

"You work here?" Scott asked, slowly approaching the counter.

"In a way... I do do some jobs here and their to pay for my dear old mum, but actually, I run the el Potosi job center!"

Scott would bang his head on the job center front counter, but he knew he would hit hard enough to kill himself. He gathers up his remaining dignity and reluctantly asks "Ugh, can I have a job?"

"Why, of course my boy, of course my boy, of course. Us third raters have to stick together you know? Help each other out whenever we can! I'll tell you what, you go over to that big bulletin board, pick whatever job you fancy, and meet me outside. I'll give you an extra $60 just for being a previous customer!"

Scott nodded and slowly skulled over to the bulletin board, where he found he had a full 3 choices in demeaning, hard ass labor! He could either collect coconuts (coconuts? they're tropical, Texas is an arid zone!), mow a hundred acres of grass, collect some garbage, or pump gas. He went over the horrible implications of each in his head, just trying to fathom the stench his body would produce for each, and how it would mix with the stench of the sickly green air. After several minutes of self debating, he took one of the sheets off the board and stepped outside.

Again, the air hit him hard, causing him to gag and stagger before regaining his composure. Somehow Bill was already out here and waiting. "Ah, glad you found a task that suits you! What would you like to do?" He asks far to cheerily. Scott hands him the paper, and Bill smiles widely "Ah, trash pick up! Excellent choice! This place really could use a nice spring cleaning! Now then, follow me!" Bill waved for Scott and he complied, following him down the street.

Scott chose to pick up trash, namely because it would be the least noticeable stench (as the streets already smelled of rot). As well, he thought it would probably be the easiest, seeing as how trash wasn't exactly rare in a town like El Potosi. They walked for about ten minutes, in seemingly random directions, before Bill found a street he felt was dirty enough. Scott was handed a trash spear and a trash can (where the hell had Bill been keeping these this whole time?) and was told "All right, here's the situation: you may think that your doing a demeaning and strenuous task for roughly jack s- an hour, but the truth is, you're doing all that stuff for a higher purpose. The streets are in need of a hero, one willing to stand up to the grime and filthy that has piled up throughout the land. You my fellow third rater, are that hero! Not the hero the streets want, but the hero they deserve! Go, clean up the crime that is grime, earn your 200 dollars, and be the hero you are destined to be!"

"Uh... What?"

Gazpa sighed "Look, pick up the trash for the money, it's your civic duty. God, try and be theatrical ONCE and all you get is criticism..."

Scott rolled his eyes and stepped past Bill. He spotted an empty soda can lazily rolling down the street with each gust of putrid air. He approached it, lined up the spear and was about to jab it. His spear was less than one inch from the first piece of trash from his first job when his phone rang (saving you the suffering of having to read about Scott picking up some litter) Scott flipped it open and gave a simple hello. His heart stopped for a beat when he heard the voice from the other line.

"'Ello monsieur Pilgrim, how are we doing today?" Came Chauvin's French accented voice.

"How did you get this number?" Scott asked roughly, heart rate now picking up to a fever pitch, world spinning.

"Why, zee telephone book my chum! I swear, people just don't get zee value of those things. Now they just use them as door stops and props... any which way, enough of my rambling! I just called to tell you that your next fight has been arranged, and zee competitor is on his way!" Chauvin chirped lightly.

Scott gripped the phone tighter, eyes widening "How do you know where I am?"

"Why, zee association always keeps tabs on its participants, especially the new ones. We can't have you disappearing on us, can we monsieur Pilgrim?" He replied, with a slight hint of malice attached to his final remark. "Now, $25,000 has been added to your account, as per usual 7th ranking match, and zee opponent is about 8 blocks from your home right now. If you start running now, you may just beat him home..."

Scott was about to ask why that mattered, when his heart dropped "Where is Ramona?" He asked René, knowing the bastard was keeping track of her as well.

"Why, she got home a minute ago. You missed a text from her while you where talking to me, pardon. Well, best not distract you any further when you have business to attend to, au revoir, monsieur Pilgrim."

Scott was about to slam his phone shut and charge home, when he realized something important "WAIT! René, you still there?" René gave a hum of acknowledgement and Scott continued "Um... this is awkward... uh... could you, give my directions to my house?"

René laughed a little "Yes, I can, and I will, but only this once. Next time, bring your electronic map with you, okay?" Scott gave a gruff grunt before dropping the trash collecting stuff and bolting off.

**This is what a transition looks like**

Scott was panting and wheezing through the gritty air as he neared his house, ready to go. He would have tried calling Ramona, but needed René's directions to find his tiny house in this cesspool of a town. He was only about a block away now, his feet dragging and brain frying in the heat. He was in no condition to fight, but knew he had to protect Ramona, had to protect her from whatever psychopathic super assassin had come to slay him. He knew (from reading a lot of comic books) they would use his love of Ramona against him, and knew whoever it was would kidnap her. He had already seen Kim kidnapped, and that was hard enough. Seeing Ramona in a cage (technically again, if you count the bondage garb in book 6)... he couldn't bear that.

He runs up and shoulder smashes the door, the cheap dollar store lock flying off the wall and the 99 cent store doorknob giving way. "RAMONA! ARE YOU OKAY?!" He shouts in a mix of fear and desperation (and wheezing/ hacking).

Scott hears an unfamiliar voice "... and then the blonde says 'well I didn't know he could play the violin!" followed by to sets of laughter, one from Ramona, and one from mystery man. He stepped into the house and turned the corner into the kitchen, where he saw Ramona, alive and well, dressed in a pizza delivery get up, talking to some other guy, while drinking some tea. The man had tanned skin, grizzled, chiseled features, and a deep red scar down the left side of his face. He wore a full on sombrero, an intricate poncho over plain white shirt, long black trousers, and... red tennis shoes?

Both new guy and Ramona looked over the sweat drenched, panting Scott. Ramona spoke first "Hey Firion, whatsup?" Scott ignored her.

"Enough with the cover names, we've been found out. Who is this guy?!" He asks loudly, finger poking the man's rough, unshaven cheek.

The man smiled, swatted Scott's hand away, stood, turned, and shook Scott's hand. "Hola. My name is Jorge, Jorge Pillante, aka the Mexican samurai, aka the soon to be world's 7th greatest assassin, aka the guy who's about to kill you to death, Scott."

Ramona jumped up from the table "Hey, you said you where a financial advisor from Montreal!"

Jorge shrugged "Eh, well, I lied. Anyway, shall we take this outside, pardoner? Kind of hard to swing a blade in this confined space, eh?"

Scott looked around and nodded, motioning for Ramona to stay there. Jorge moved past Scott, stepped over the busted door, and stood on the porch. "I'll give you a few moments to say goodbye to your girlfriend, while I freshen up... I suggest you do the same." Jorge said, before turning and stepping into the yard.

Scott turned back to Ramona, who was now confused... but oddly not nervous... like, at all. "Dude, how did that guy find us?" Ramona asked, looking down the hallway to see Jorge stretching in the lawn, rolling his shoulders and neck slowly.

"Well, they didn't so much find us as they never lost us... were being watched.. and will be watched until I'm out of the UAA. Listen, Rammy, whatever happens out there, I just want to say that I love you and that I'm sorry I got you involved an-" Scott was cut off by a kiss, a deep, passionate one. It took him a few seconds to start returning it, and by then Ramona was pulling away. They looked into each other's eyes a few moments, before Ramona smiled.

"Scott, your in the top 10 toughest guys I know. Your going to go out there, kick an ass, and take a life. If anyone can do that, it's you. Whatever happens, whatever wacko comes your way, whatever fights we have to fight, I believe in you." She said, hand on Scott's cheek. Scott touched her hand and returned the smile, head cocked slightly to the left. He gives her one lat peck on the hand before grabbing his sword, getting some deodorant on, swapping to his UAA t-shirt (Just a simple grey thing with the acronym and a dripping red blood splotch in the middle), and heading out onto the porch.

Jorge stopped his stretching and looked up at Scott, tipping his sombrero "Ah, your ready, good. Now, shall we begin?" Jorge asked, reaching behind him and gripping onto the handle of something.

Scott raised his sword and was about to nod when he though for a moment "Actually, can I ask you like, two questions first?"

Jorge looked at him confused, eyebrow raised at the boy. He was going to ask questions of his killer? Jorge nodded, still off his element. "Well, firstly, you had every chance to hurt Ramona, my girlfriend... but didn't. Why?"

Jorge looked like he was slapped by the question, and answered in a slightly hurt tone "Well, killing your girlfriend wouldn't have made me a good assassin... it would just make me kind of a dick. I am a samurai, and we live by a code of honor. Killing off our enemies girlfriends just to be a dick is not part of that code."

Scott looked genuinely surprised. If this is how the assassins acted, and how they felt, he felt stupid for thinking that he had put Ramona into danger... "Uh, okay... I guess I don't have a second question. Lets have a good battle and... I guess have at it." He said awkwardly. Jorge smiled as Scott leapt off the porch, ready to strike. He finally flipped up his poncho and drew his behemoth of a weapon, stopping Scott dead in his tracks. "What in blazes is that... thing?" He asked worriedly. Jorge just smiled...

* I would like to point out that the woman berating Scott is in fact white.

** Next chaprter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Scott Pilgrim**

Back in the saddle

Scott stood in awe as Jorge wielded his massive... uh... "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!"

"It's called a macuahuitl. Look it up, partner." He said, raising the macuahuitl above his head. It was a 4 foot, flat, thick piece of wood, like a hybrid sword club, with 2 wide blunt sides, and with massive shards of razor sharp obsidian on the two thinner edges. Look it up for a better description or some pictures. Jorge swung the obsidian tipped edge over handed at Scott, who side stepped the mass of wood and glass. Jorge then spun around, twisting his whole body and lifting the blade up diagonally as he did so. Scott had little clue of how to dodge an attack like that (too high to jump, too low to duck, too long to dodge) so he simply brought his sword between them and hoped for the best.

Scott's massive metal sword buried about a quarter of an inch into the three inch thick macuahuitl, sending wood and obsidian splinters flying. Jorge just smiled and swung his leg around, sweeping Scott off his feet and dropping him flat onto his back, sword dislodging from the wood. Jorge rolled the handle around in his hands and drove the blunt top of the weapon into Scott's chest, pinning Scott to the ground and driving the air from his lungs. Jorge lifted and rotated the weapon the right way again, ready to slice at Scott's chest. Scott, through the pain, saw the slow moving club barrel towards him and rolled as quickly as he could, just out of range when the club slammed into the ground with a thud.

Scott staggered to his feet and tried to catch his breath as Pillante lifted the weapon again, grinning widely as he panted lightly. He propped up the blunt end on his shoulder like a bat, cocking his head so it wouldn't scratch his sombrero. He gave a light chuckle as he motioned for Scott to come at him.

Scott frowned and gave a yelp as he ran at him, more insulted than he should have been at the challenge. He swung wildly, but Jorge was a lot quicker on his feet than he was swinging that massive weapon. Scott swung high but Jorge spun to the right, avoiding the attack. Scott swung low and his enemy skipped over the blade with ease. He stabbed at him, but Jorge twirled and counter attacked, smashing the blunt end of his weapon into the back of Scott's head, sending him tumbling onto the ground and letting him see stars. Scott growled in anger and leapt to his feet, eyes turning red again and skin growing pale. Ramona looked in horror as Scott transformed, she had never seen him like this!

"You see Pilgrim, I could have killed you then and there, buried my blade into the back of your little skull... but I didn't. You see, I may live by a code of honor, but that don't mean I can't have a little fun!" He taunted, lightly hopping from foot to foot as Scott grinded his teeth. Scott charged at him again, and Jorge sidestepped... right into Scott's swinging blade! Jorge gasped as Scott ran right past, blade tearing deeply into his right side and sending blood flying. Jorge gasped and stumbled, using his sword as a makeshift cane while using his left hand to hold his gaping wound. Scott finally stopped charging at the end of the yard, sword now at his side in one hand. He turned, revealing a sickening toothy leer.

"I'm going to make you regret that decision." Scott barked, a slight echo to his voice. Ramona continued to watch as Scott continued to pale, his eyes now practically glowing, letting off some form of... energy?

Jorge righted himself "I'd like to see you try!" he cockily replied, though the smile was now gone from his face. Scott charged him again and this time Jorge took more precautions, taking note of where Scott's weapon was, how fast he was moving, and trying to guess where he would strike. Scott swiftly lashed out when he was in distance, sending Jorge stumbling back in surprise at the quickness of the swing. Scott hopped forward and drove a kick (thankfully) into Jorge's uninjured side, causing him to falter to the right as he tried desperately to regain his footing. Finally, Scott swung at his head, to which Jorge narrowly ducked, a chunk of his sombrero sent flying.

Now kneeling, he knew he had an opening. He swung low, still half hunched, aiming to take out Scott's kneecaps. Scott scoffs as he easily hops back from the slow attack, but is quickly cut off when Pillante turns and leaps, sending his shoulder right into Scott's chest and causing him to fall flat on his ass. The Mexican samurai swung the macuahuitl over head and down at Scott... who caught it between his hands!  
Pillante gasped as Scott rose, wood firmly in his grip. He lobbed the weapon to his side and drew his own sword from the ground, as Jorge struggled in vain to recover, attempting to swing at the same time. Scott struck first, his blade cleaving through the macuahuitl at the handle, causing the blade to fly off and crash into the street, obsidian shattering and wood cracking. Jorge stared, petrified in horror at the useless wooden stump in his hands. Scott brought his weapon back around, whizzing clean through Jorge as if he weren't there. Oh no, Scott wasn't done with him yet though. He swung again, and again, and again, each time he did so he picked up speed. Pillante was long since dead, his body sitting motionless as slice after slice cut though his body, his body staying together through nothing more than fridge logic.

Ramona approached Scott, who continued to hack blindly at the samurai, his hands now a blur of swishing death "Scott, he's dead, give it a rest." She said hesitantly, slowly approaching him. He paid no heed to her words and continued slicing. She spoke again, now with more conviction "Scott, you killed him already, stop." He continued to nearly puree Jorge, his eyes fully dilated. "SCOTT THAT'S ENOUGH!" She screamed, grabbing Scott's shoulder. Scott snapped out of his frenzy, but not in a good way. He turned, his face contorted into a hideous (well, as hideous as a stud like Scott can make) grimace, and proceeded to bitch slap Ramona... well... he would have... if she wasn't strong enough to tear solid metal with her bare hands (she does so in vol. 2)! She reacted just in time, her hand shooting up and grabbing Scott's by the wrist. He looked confused, caught off guard by Ramona's brute strength. Now angry as well, she slings Scott across the lawn as if he weighed nothing, causing him to roll, flip, and tumble nearly half a block before finally coming to rest. Scott blinks twice and is back to normal, having been thoroughly stunned out of his state. He gets up and sprints across the lawns, sword on his back.

Ramona stands her ground, ready to knock Scott's block right off. Scott's too quick though! She watches in horror as he... breaks down at her feet and begs forgiveness. "Oh geez I'm so so **SO** sorry! IswearIdidn'tmeantodothatI'msosorryplease" he breathes in "ForgivemeIreallydon'tknowwhatcameovermeIwasn'ttryingtohithityouI'msorry!" he wails, all in one semi comprehensible wad. Ramona looked into Scott's big puppy dog eyes.

"Okay, I forgive you. Just... don't lose control like that, okay?" She asks, lifting Scott to his feet. Scott whimpers and nods, whipping tears from his eyes. Both of them are started to hear clapping, slow and measured, each one in time with slow footfalls. Ramona looks up and Scott turns, and they are both face to face with René and his clean up squad. René wears a shit eating grin as he approaches Jorge's body, still frozen in place. René's eyes glint with mischief as he inspects the world's 8th greatest assassin "Oh, I always LOVED zees sort of kills. Makes me feel young again... Especially this part." With that, René pushed into the small of Pillante's back. Scott and Ramona watched with morbid curiosity as a thin cube of meat slid out of Pillante, before flopping weakly to the ground. The samurai began to slide and tumble apart, his body falling into cubed lumps of flesh, cloth, and bone, much like sample meat in a grocer's store. Jorge's hat slowly wafted onto the top of the pile, before sliding down the slick chunks and resting on the grass.

"Ah, the simple pleasures of life, always the best, no monsieur Pilgrim?" He asked, wiping the blood off his index finger with the red handkerchief in his pocket. Scott just looked at him hesitantly.

"Um, who are you?" Ramona questioned, with venom in her voice.

René rolled his eyes and dabbed his forehead with the hanky "Ugh, zis business is draining my manners. I apologize sincerely Madame, for my rudeness. I am René Chauvin, head of zee Canadian branch of zee UAA. Pleasure to make your acquaintance." He replied heartily, extending a hand to Ramona. She goes in for a shake, but is surprise to see Chauvin twist her hand and kiss the back of it. When he was done, he lifted his head and gave her a definite wink, which sent chills down her back for reasons she can't explain. She gave a weak grin before lifting Scott to his feet, tactically placing him between them. "Ah, zee man of zee hour! How are you feeling Monsieur Pilgrim?" Chauvin asked, patting Scott on the shoulder. Scott simply nodded before turning back to where the meat pile should have been. Instead, the clean up men where just mopping up the last of the blood, the only other evidence of Scott's victory being Pillante's discarded sombrero.

"Well monsieur Pilgrim, shall we arrange for your next ranking battle? Zee number 6 does not even live zat far from here. Since their are no travel costs, it will only be-" He is cut off by Ramona, wagging a finger in his face.

"Okay, dude, we get it. Your an all powerful mega corporation of evil. Your affably evil. Your name is literally Chauvin. It doesn't mean Scott is going to participate in your screwed up ranking battles." She said sternly, finger right between Chauvin's eyes.

He gave a brief evil chuckle. "Silly girl, if Scott refuses to progress, zen he will simply be attacked again and again until he is dead. In addition, it seems rather paradoxical zat zee girl with no problems with death, and the one who told Scott to stand and do battle in zee first place, is now berating _moi _for telling Scott to fight."

Ramona froze with a look of disbelief, her eyes widening and then collapsing to a near shut squint "How did you know I said that?"

René gave a dry laugh before answering. "You said it yourself, Madame, we are zee all powerful mega corporation of evil. We have eyes and ears everywhere." He stepped past her to Scott. "Now, my chap, what shall it be? Shall I arrange zee next fight, or shall you wait for the next challenger to arrive?" He asked menacingly, eyes burrowing into Scott's soul.

Scott looked between Ramona and Chauvin, considering the options he had. He finally started the realize the hopelessness of his situation. He couldn't run, he couldn't stay in one place, he couldn't bear to keep fighting, knowing something lurked within him that yearned for blood... He started to breath heavily as each thought made him cringe in pain and anger. He pressed his hands onto his forehead, feeling the rage coming back, chomping at the bit to kill one of them, just a little! "Look, both of you. Just... I need time, okay? Just... give me some time to think okay?"

Chauvin gave a slight shrug "Eh, whatever causes your boat to rise. But be warned: The new number eight will be lurking just around zee corner." He gave forebodingly. He gave a slight bow to Ramona, a hand wave to Scott, and a nod to his men. He turned and began walking down the street, the cleaning brutes following closely behind, expensive shoes clapping loudly down the block, fading slowly into the distance.

Ramona made sure they were gone before turning to Scott "I don't like that guy." She stated simply.

"You know they probably heard that, right?" Scott answered, looking suspiciously around for bugs.

Ramona smiled "Good."

**Hooray, some violence! The story is finally going to start picking up... NOT! No, you guys (The three of you actually reading) will have to wait another chapter before the story picks up a little, and some things finally get explained. As always, comment for improvements!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: Yeah, short chapter. Yeah, crap chapter. Yeah, fluffy chapter (well, I say that in a relative way). Yeah, OOC chapter. Don't worry, their will be a very long, gory, expository chapter coming up next. Just stick around! Also, I would like to say that I realised I accidentally had Chauvin refer to himself as the head of the Canadian branch of the UAA in the last chapter, even though he is the vice president. I'm not going back, as if I went back to correct every mistake, I never would have made it past chapter 2. Well, enough rambling, it's story time!**

**Scott Pilgrim**

Under Pressure

Scott and Ramona sat at the kitchen table, slowly drinking the remaining tea Ramona had brewed. Scott silently looked his girlfriend up and down, wanting to mentally capture every inch of her... because right now she looked ridiculous. He chuckled "A pizza girl, really?"

Ramona sighed "Dude, it was the best I could get in a day, geez. Plus your in no position to judge garbage boy!" She shot back smiling, taking a victory sip of her lukewarm tea. Scott now remembered he had told her about that (and silently regretted that he did). Ramona sets her cup down, giving Scott a much more apprehensive look. "So, seriously, what are we going to do? We can't keep running, they'll track us to the ends of the earth, we could stand and fight, but like that creep Chauvin said you'll have no idea what's coming next, and if you decide to go to the top, you'll have to keep fighting stronger guys. Should we just wait it out, or try and make it out early?"

Scott gave her a nervous stare "C'mon, we were just having drinks like normal people, can't we keep doing that? I don't want to talk about this stupid assassin thing."

"No Scott, we really have to talk about what we should try. If both of us have to go through this together, we should make a plan now, than do something else. This is a matter of life and death, we have to take it seriously." She replied sternly

Scott spoke up "So, what you're saying is, it's kill or be killed?"

Ramona bopped him on the nose for that, putting an end to his snickering. Ramona thinks a little before thumping him again, this time on the forehead. He gave her a confused look as he rubbed both areas with one hand. Ramona gave a simple "For the bed joke." Scott nodded and grumbled.

"But in all seriousness, we also need to talk about what happened out their. What makes you lose control, and why? You never seemed to have it when fighting my ex's, so why now? What makes you lust blood?" She ponders, crossing her arms and looking intently into Scott's eyes. Scott couldn't maintain his gaze, and instead stared at the floor.

"I... ugh, can we not... do we have to talk about this stuff? Why can't we just... talk about normal people things?"

"Because you attacked me, you tried to hit me because I wanted to stop you from slicing a dead horse. We need to really look at our options, plan our future accordingly, and try and fix the problems you're having." She responded, placing her hand on the back of Scott's. She giggled "Plus, when was the last time we talked about normal people things? We aren't normal people."

Scott huffed "I am SUCH a normal person." Ramona just laughed. Scott let out a heavy sigh before speaking again "Well, I don't know what I'm feeling. It just... happens. Whenever I start really getting into these fights I just... lose myself. Like, I know what's happening, but I don't feel like I have a say in what is going on... and even if I did I... I don't know if I would stop it..." He trailed off, trying to think of a way to describe it. In all honesty, he didn't really want to describe it, he didn't want to know what was happening to him, he just wanted it to stop. These urges, they really scared him, they scared him because he had no clue what the end result would be. Would they get worse? Would he get stuck like that? Would he just balance out?

He shook his head clear and tried to answer the other question "Well, like you said... sorry, I'm talking about the UAA ranking battles now; like you said, I don't really have much choice. Stand ground and make some serious cash, or fight my way out. Well... I guess I can't avoid killing either way." He paused, then his eyes bulged in shock, his face growing pale, but not the same kind of pale as before, this was a fearful pale. He thought a few more seconds before speaking up softly "I'm going to become the number one."

Ramona stared with a mix of shock and concern. "Are you sure?"

Scott nodded "If I fight to the top, I'll have to take out 6 evil assassins. I'll have six chances to lose control of myself. If I stay where I am... I'll be fighting a new person every couple of days, meaning I'll have to fight upwards of one hundred guys, most of which will be less skilled than me, meaning I'll have to kill hundreds... I don't really think I have a choice."

Ramona sat silently, rolling through the words slowly, before nodding "Scott, for how stupid you are, you can be really smart when you need to."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

They both had a small laugh, relishing in the refreshing taste of getting back to normality. Scott stood up "So, wanna grab something for dinner?"

Ramona raised an eyebrow "Are you serious? It's like, only 5:05. Plus I just went and bought groceries for the week." She motioned towards the counter, which indeed had piles of groceries, plastic utensils, and drinks. (SEE?! SHE BOUGHT THE TEA ON HER WAY HOME! I TOTALLY DIDN'T FORGET THEY HAD NO UTENSILS OR TEA WHEN I WROTE THAT SCENE WITH RAMMY AND JORGE! SEE?! HA HA HA!... not buying it? Well f**k you too then...)

"Well, if I have to talk to Chauvin again, I think I-" (apparently I love interrupting people)

"Ah, say no more, I agree. Let me just change out of my work clothes." She goes into the bedroom and begins changing as Scott remains seated, thinking about the day. He doesn't know what kind foes he'll have to fight... though, he never did in the first place. How hard would they be? Would they be harder than the evil ex's? If he could defeat psychics, movie stars, geniuses and ninjas, he knew he had to be tough, but still... Ramona came back into the kitchen, dressed in a short red t-shirt with the usual star insignia emblazoned on the front, shorts, and had swapped from her roller blades to normal sneakers.

"Hey, isn't that the shirt I earned from beating Gideon?"

"Yeah, it was... but I think it looks better on me."

"Can't argue with that." Scott replied, giving a comedic shrug. They hold hands and are about to head out when Ramona stops them.

"Wait, I got something for this." She said, walking back to the kitchen. When she returned, she had paper painters masks. She handed one to Scott, who smiled and ecstatically thanked her. They gave each other a quick kiss before putting the masks on, moving the unhinged door out of the way and heading out.

They had a great time. They were finally able to breath properly, they found a Mexican place a few blocks away that was only half ghetto, and Scott manage to only shed one tear when he remembered that the last guy he killed was Mexican! After a very nice dinner, with staff that promised they didn't spit in their food, Scott and Ramona went back to their tiny house. Scott and Ramona sat at the couch, still talking and laughing, when Scott's phone buzzed and chirped "RING RING MOTHER FUCKERS!"  
He looked at the contact "Oh... bad..."

"Is it Chauvin?" Ramona asked concerned, wanting as little to do with the man as humanly possible (yes, even less than Bill Gazpa)

"No... Wallace." Scott replied, the phone still going off as he thought about what to say. Ramona gave an :-O expression.

"... Well, good luck with that dude." She said, patting Scott on the thigh and walking to the bedroom, knowing that this would be loud, even through the tiny cell phone speaker.

With a sigh, Scott flipped the phone open "Hel-"

"SCOTT OH GEEZ I HEARD WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OKAY?" He blasted, nearly taking the side of Scott's head off.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. Hey could-"

"YOU BET! I'm already working on new identities, I'll have them ready in no time, I'll fly down their and-" it was Scott's turn to interrupt.

"Uh, actually, I was going to... to ask if you could sign me up for the next ranking battle. Me and Ramona don't want to talk to Chauvin and... Hello?" He couldn't hear Wallace's breathing anymore, only silence, followed by a click and an all too familiar French accent.

"Ah, glad to see zat you have chosen the interesting path! I'll have the fight scheduled momentarily. Now, since you are zee offending party, zee rules are slightly different, first-" I think I'll have to stop interrupting people, it's getting too predictable.

"Where is Wallace?" Scott asked flatly, knowing the Frenchman was up to no good.

"Why, zat is inconsequential my chum!" he responded cheerily.

"I swear to non denominational deity, you better tell me what you've done with him! If even one hair on his head is harmed I'll... I dunno, kick your ass! Now, where is he?"

Chauvin gave a confused hum "He is in his desk, where else would he be? I saw he was getting a call from you, monsieur Pilgrim, and had zee call transferred to my phone... Now, are we done acting rash?" Scott froze in horror at his own stupidity. He had never been this embarrassed in his whole life... except maybe that thing at the graduation party... and the incident in Gideon's base... or the thing with Sandra... well, this was in the top... 25. MINIMUM. Scott gave an "uh huh" and Chauvin continued "Now zen, since you are zee offending party, you may begin to hear strange noises at certain points. Do not fret, zose just mean zat our sound system is functioning properly. What is of greater interest is zat you get a few pieces of info on zee person you shall be doing combat with! Now, before I am allowed to tell you zee information, I need you to pay zee entry fee of... $45,000."

Scott twitched in horror, his muscles refusing to unlock "forty five..."

"Thousand, yes. Shall you be paying with your UAA credit card?"

Scott thought hard. This fight would wipe his account down to less than $5000. He would have to pay for new fights too... how the hell was he going to get the cash for that? He thought for almost another twenty seconds before he finally sighed. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. "Yes."

"Ah, magnifique! I shall now tell you zee necessary info. Zee next challenger you will face is a woman named Matilda Yulivich, though she goes by 'pestilence' as well. It says she is a member of some super occult society. Spooky right? I will update your map, and you can go to her whenever you feel ready. Well, au revoire!" Chauvin hung up.

Scott sat in silence for a few more minutes, trying to contemplate how he should approach this. He looked at his phone, now 7:00. He decides to wait until tomorrow, knowing that magic people get their power from moon beams (he thinks...) and heads to bed. Ramona is lying on the bed, reading her book and listening to music, not noticing Scott had even entered the room. Scott silently began to go through her bag, drawing out a new shirt and some comfortable sleeping pants. Halfway through changing Ramona finally notices him. "Oh, that ended quickly. Did Wallace have a heart attack or something?" she asked with all seriousness.

"No, René rerouted my call to him. I'm fighting some cultist tomorrow." he said bluntly, sliding into bed next to the girl from his dreams. Ramona looks at him with a worried gaze. "Don't worry babe, I'll stomp this Kali Ma crazy witch in a heartbeat and we'll be one step closer to the top."

She sighs "I'm not worried about you losing the fight, I'm concerned with you losing your humanity. When you said you got a rush off killing that guy, I didn't imagine it would something like what I saw... what I saw... it wasn't you, Scott. It wasn't the dork I met, it wasn't the recovering dork that fought for me, and it wasn't the responsible guy I... it wasn't you now."

Scott now has a pained look on his face. He really didn't want to talk about this right now. "Look, I know why you're worried... look, I promise not to lose it in their, okay?" he asked, secretly knowing he had no real control over keeping that promise.

"...Promise?"

"My hand to non denominational deity." he said, hand on his chest.

She smiled and hugged him "Okay, I believe you. He returned the hug, and before he could even say "gosh, I'm really sleepy, I could probably just fall asleep here and now, in the arms of my love." He was asleep, softly pressed against her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's notes: **Yes, chapter 8 is here, and by god it's long (for my standards) it reached about 7000 words when I finally cut it off, realising it still had another 1000 to go, not to mention that the next 1000 would fit better with the next scene anyway. Hope you enjoy! (note: next chapter won't be for approximately three weeks, as I will be going back and forth between this and L4F. Don't worry, I have both fully mapped out, I just need to write up the planned and based chapters, I don't have to think up and write them all from scratch. As an aside, since I haven't said this yet (silly me) I DO NOT OWN ANY PART OF SCOTT PILGRIM, OR THE GAME NO MORE HEROES. I OWN ONLY THE OC'S I'VE CREATED, AND I HAVE PURCHASED A COPY OF ALL 6 VOLUMES OF SCOTT PILGRIM AND NMH1 and 2. I OWN NO PART OF THE RESPECTIVE FRANCHISES. There, happy?

**Scott Pilgrim**

The dark one: part 1

Scott's eyes opened groggily, his brain demanding at least 1.3X10^32 hours more sleep. He felt around for his phone, which he found on the floor near the foot of the bed. It was 8:25 AM, far to early for Scott to fight some witch woman, but still, he found himself sitting up and slowly shuffling to the restroom. He brushed his teeth, combed his hair, didn't throw a ball into the air (because that would be weird) and stepped into the shower. The warm water woke him up well, kicking his brain up to regular speed, but still left his body sluggish. He reached for the soap, but found nothing. He looked all around, even looking on the sink. "Crap, no soap." he just kind of turned about a few times under the water, hoping to at least get the worst of the sweat off of him. A few minutes later, he stepped out, tied a towel around his waist, and walked back to his room.

Again, he found a pile of clothes and a note. This time he went for the note first, seeing as how he wasn't fully dry yet. He read it aloud "_Left for work. Good luck at the whole assassin thing, I believe in you... mostly _mostly? what the hell does she mean by that? whatever... _PS we don't have any soap or shampoo, pick some up. Sincerely, Ramona V. Flowers, 8:00 AM._" He set the note down and got dressed, now in cargo shorts and a clash at demon head t-shirt.

He got some cereal and began playing some puck man on his phone, trying to get his mind off the fight he was going to do today(what, do I really have to say that he went to the kitchen and saw there was cereal? That would just be a waste of space... and I hate wasting space, a lot.) His bowl would only last him so long as he quickly found out, and he had to face this thing eventually. With a sigh he put his bowl in the sink, slung the power of understanding over his back, and moved the door out of the way. He sent Ramona a quick text "Off to figt evil bitch. TTYL." and stepped off into the city, regretting the fact that he forgot to bring his face mask.

THIS IS ALSO A TRANSITION.

He arrived at his location after an hour of walking, the electronic map he had doing a horrible job of expressing just how far this place was. "The place" in question looked like a massive gated cathedral of sorts, a shining and pristine white angular structure towering over the north east side of the city, with massive stain glass windows, two huge doors on the front, and guards... lots of them on the inside. Scott couldn't tell from this distance what they were wielding, but that seemed irrelevant at the moment, consider the simple fact that there were MORE PEOPLE THAN LAST TIME.

He flipped out his phone and redialed René's phone, getting an answer almost immediately "Ello Monsieur Pilgrim, how may I be of service to you?"

"Uh, there are like, a lot of people hear, man. Why are there so many people?"

"Those are her bodyguards, of course! When on zee offense, you oft have to fight zee people paid money to protect zee person you are trying to kill. All zee good assassins have zem."  
"Well, why don't I have any bodyguards?"

"Did you hire some?"

"Well, no..."

"Exactly! Now quite zee bitching and go kill some bitch! Au reviore!" René slammed his end down. Scott paced nervously, angry with this whole stupid situation. He has to fight even MORE people moving up the ladder than staying still, what a rip off! He couldn't believe these guys had there own guys, there own highly specialized, well trained, battle hardened mooks to fight on there behalf. He paced angrily, trying to think of what to do. Would René give him his money back? Could he just cancel and let Wallace get the papers through? He then remembered what he had said to Ramona, and what he had tried to do to her. No, there was no going back, he could only move forward. But... he smiled... going forward didn't have to necessarily mean shedding more blood. He put his sword on his back, cracked his knuckles, and kicked the gate open. A high, raspy, echoing male voice is heard, seemingly coming from nowhere and everywhere as red letters appear below Scott, spelling out what the voice says "_PESTILENCE" _then another voice is heard, a woman's, still raspy and echoing "Hell shall receive a worthy soul tonight!"

Uh... this must be the sound system Chauvin warned about. Scott is approached by two robed men, brandishing brass knuckles, looking to take Scott off the premises.

ANOTHER TRANSITION.

Matilda watched from her throne room, eyes on a set of monitors and computers opposite her. She smiled, her mildly wrinkled features twisting into a grin of ecstasy that the woman had not felt in many years. She watched as Scott defeated her doormen, ducking and countering their blows with ease. An acolyte next to her spoke up, dressed in the black and red of an elite, rather than the plain white of the commoners "Ma'am, this intruder is breaching the holy land with the intent to kill you. Shall we release members... better equipped to handle the situation?"

Matilda stopped watching for a moment to look at the bodyguard. The guard had genuine concern in her voice, she feared her mistress's death. Matilda frowned, fixed on the back of the woman's robed head. "one thousand four hundred and ninety seven, may you please recite verse 18 from book 4 of my religious manifesto?"

1497 did not turn, but instantly responded, having all 50,000 verses committed to memory "Thou shalt not fear the pains of death, not for ones self nor for one another, for all must face the divine in due time." she then sighed, knowing Matilda had studied all of her acolytes too well for her to lie "I apologize ma'am, but our order is held together only through your stalwart leadership, I do not wish to see the ones you have indoctrinated, and shown the light, be cast aside and left with no destination."

Matilda knew it was not her way to express anger, but she could not stop her voice from giving a slight hiss of annoyance "1497, if it was my leadership alone that had maintained this order, then it would have fallen many years ago. I have made mistakes on many occasions, and have failed on many more. It is the book of the divine that gives the order our solidity, and so long as it remains, so shall we. This Mr. Pilgrim is very different from the normal rapscallions we have encountered in the past. He is... conflicted. He gives off an aura that I have seen innumerous times in the past, but in a shade I am not familiar with. It... intrigues me."

The female bodyguard bowed her head "I realize the intruder is different... that's what concerns me."

Matilda sighed and turned back to the monitor. Scott had just defeated an eighth follower, swirling under a swinging blade and smashing heavy hook into his kidney, causing the robed figure to collapse in pain. Scott approached the massive steel reinforced oak door and kicked it in... or, he would have if it weren't a massive steel reinforced oak door. He hopped up and down on one foot screaming, clutching his foot in both hands. Ms. Yulivich was not one to waste precious time on frivolous luxuries such as comedy, but she felt unable to resist watching as her guest banged and smashed at the door feebly, his voice changing from a menacing roar to one not unlike that of a needy housecat asking to be let in. Matilda almost chuckled, but kept her composure and simply turned to her second guard, standing opposite 1497. "2021, please let Mr. Pilgrim in, he appears to be having some difficulties. As well, please send out some more challenging opponents... I must test the intruders resolve, as well as his skill." she noted 1497's stance became more relaxed, hearing the mistress would send out stronger members of the order. She was going to correct her, tell her that she was not making this decision for the guards benefit, but refrained, knowing it would be a hopeless endeavor.

The six foot seven black robed bouncer nodded "Yes ma'am." and produced a small remote. He clicked a few buttons and the doors shot open, just as Scott charged to ram them down.

TOO MANY TRANSITIONS!

Scott flew threw the now open door rolled and tumbled comically off the over polished tile floors. He finally came to rest on his knees, trying his damndest not to throw up. What was up with that? The doors opened up before he even had a chance to hit them, almost as if this Pestilence girl wanted Scott to come in... his thoughts are interrupted when he sees two polished shoes step into his field of view. Scott leaps up and smashes his forehead into the man's chin, sending him stumbling back. Scott gets in a fighting stance and notices this man actually has a sword, not a toy one, a proper one! Resisting the urge to flee, Scott simply draws his blade and waits. "Okay, I know I promised I wasn't going to use this thing, but I guess I'll have to. I now promise that I won't kill anyone but the assassin." he thought to himself.

The cultist swung high, the curved blade giving off a sharp clang as it collided with Scott's awaiting sword. Scott deflected the blow and elbowed the man in the face, drawing a little blood and sending him reeling back. Scott then kicked the man in the gut, five hit combo-ed his chest, and finished by smacking him across the room with the blunt side of his blade. Oddly, no one came to this man's aid, or even came to kill Scott just yet... weird.

Scott took stock of the hall, looking for secret traps or sensors. On either side were a series of massive stain glass windows, depicting strange scenes of... something. He studied them closer, hoping to discern their meaning. Each depicted something bloody, he could tell that much by the liberal usage of dark crimson and flesh pink, but little else seemed to add up. It didn't appear that anyone was fighting. Some of the dead just sat complacently, others where actually smiling! They started to give him the creeps as he noticed that each one had Matilda, dressed in black, wielding a scythe above the scene, her eyes burrowing into Scott's soul even in glass format.

He took in a sharp inhalation as pain surged through him, emanating from his head. He remembered... vaguely... seeing this woman before... but where? He remembered her voice, even though he thought he had never heard it, he remembered her clan name, the dove society, even though he had never been told it. He breathed heavily, trying to fight unconsciousness as a surge of half memories, half hallucinations took over his mind. He struggled to his feet as the doors at the end of the hall finally opened up, four pistol toting white robes strolling in, ready for a fight. Scott looked at them, his mind now fighting three urges. Pain, run, and kill. He only had the strength at the moment to fight two of them.

SECOND TO LAST ONE, PROMISE!

Matilda watches as Scott slowly paled, his flesh turning like that of clay, his hair turning blacker than the blackest black, times infinity. When his hand came away from his face, calmly, steadily, his eyes were glowing red. He charges the four red shirts (sorry, white robes), easily swatting their bullets away. The first one he encounters holds his ground, obeying book 3, verse 71 to the letter. Scott slices his pistol in half with a flash of sparks and the sparkling of semi ignited gun powder. Scott quickly turned and sliced the man in half at the waste, blood staining the once white robes. Matilda watched studiously as one by one her men fell before her guest, getting him more and more riled up. She pondered aloud "It appears that our visitor is indeed filled with black energy, and it is also apparent that he needs little stimuli to unleash it, even against his will. I suppose the only true question now is can he be taught to contain it, be turned to the side of righteousness." she gave a long, cracking hmm as her personal guards sat silently, knowing that Matilda was not addressing them.

Scott was onto his last gunwoman, who despite her expert dodging, was simply outmatched by Pilgrim. He swatted the gun away like a toy before gripping her tightly by the neck and lifting her off the ground, Sword poised to run her through. Matilda continued to silently ponder as time seemed to slow.

LAST ONE... OF THIS CHAPTER!

Even in Scott's crazed state he could see the resemblance. He paused and breathed heavily as he stared into the woman's unafraid eyes, which stared daggers of confidence despite her situation. She had a darker complexion, had short cropped hair, and had slightly brighter eyes, but she was a near carbon copy of Stacey. Scott remembered all the times he and Stacey where together, all the times Scott helped her out, and all the times she returned the favor. Scott grunted and fought, struggling to take back control. He dropped his sword and the girl, and instead clutched his head. He couldn't kill her... he wouldn't kill her... he would kill HER! He would kill the number six, the one who brainwashed these guys, the one who made this stupid cult! He-

Scott's thoughts were cut off by a gun being put to his head and cocked. He swatted the pistol away and threw the Stacey looking girl into the wall, knocking her out cold. He looked around, the three mutilated bodies sitting silently on the floor, each slowly oozing thick blood. He gagged at the sight, the smell of death hitting him despite the freshness of the bodies. He quickly grabbed his sword, hopped over the mangled wads of human flesh and proceeded into the next room. "COME OUT AND GET ME YOU CRAZY BITCH! THESE INNOCENTS DON'T HAVE TO DIE BECAUSE YOU'RE A COWARD!" Scott blasted, tired of the unnecessary roughness. He is in a massive congregation room, with pews lined into rows on either side, stretching for about twenty rows, up until a raised platform and podium at the far end. The room was adorned with dove crests, laurels, and blood writings on the walls... as well as around 2 dozen angry looking cultists, armed and dangerous.

The men and women stand at the far end silently, unmoving. Finally, a voice is heard over an unseen PA system. "Scott, to say these people are innocent is to say all men are innocent. Their souls may have been purified by the divine, their crimes may have been forgiven, and their intentions may be pure, but they are not innocent. They have loved, they have cheated, they have lied... and they have killed. I shall wait for you in my office, just at the end of the room. Usually you'd have to collect the three hidden key cards to access this room, but for you? No, I shall defeat you with haste, and end the threat you pose." she turned off the speaker and Scott stood there in total confusion. The threat he posed? This nut job was turning people into freaky cultists left and right and he was the threat?

He blinked and got back to the job at hand. Now that the master had spoken, about six of the two dozen robed figures charged Scott, hopping over pews and sprinting down the main aisle, flanking him from three sides. Scott stood at the ready, clutching his sword backwards so he could strike with the blunt edge. The first of these assailants vaulted over the last pew and leapt above Scotts head, rifle trained between Scott's staring eyes. Even though guns are worthless (if only hyperlink to the TV tropes page from here... that would make making this reference so much easier) in this game, a direct blow to the head from a Springfield would kill Scott instantly. Scott rolled forward as the man shot into the ground, missing by centimeters.

As the crazed man landed, he chambered another round and took aim at the crouching Scott. Scott swiftly leapt backwards, landing on the cultist's gun gracefully, before back flipping over him and kicking him in the back of the head (all this and he can't ride a skateboard? also I don't know where to put the period in this sentence, before or after the end parenthesis, so I'll guess). The minion was launched forward and slammed into a second grunt, both of whom tumbled and rolled back down the aisle. Scott landed gracefully just as another one swung at him with a cattle prod of sorts.

Scott caught the makeshift weapon by the shaft, keeping the electrified head as far as possible. He then twisted the pole out of his opponents hand, before driving it into his face, breaking his nose. The man reeled and moaned as Scott swung the grip end of the rod at a forth cultist. This proved to be a stupid move however, as the girl caught the handle and pressed down on the trigger, shoving the end right into Scott's face! Scott seized up and collapsed, shaking violently on the ground. He was struggled to regain control as his brain and muscles seemed to each have a mind of their own, each with a massive migraine and having a seizure (I don't know, I've only been electrocuted three times and that's the best I can do at describing it).

He managed to lazily defend against a downward slash, barely flopped over to avoid a spear, and took a bullet to the back. He yelped in surprise and hopped to his feet, rubbing the sore spot with his free hand. That bullet had done the trick and had woken him up! "All right, no you brainwashed dicks are gonna get it!" he announce, clutching his blade firmly in both hands.

The battle moved all over the room, with pews being thrown, floors being bloodied, and with many bodies slammed into many walls. One by one the minions fell to Scott, who managed to suppress his darker urges and simply knock them out. Scott was surprised at these guys' perseverance and seeming lack of cause and effect. He had thinned their numbers to a mere ten and still they fought on with zeal and vigor, not even panting as they darted and shuffled around the room in a nearly deadly dance. Scott was showing wear, but fought on, unable to retreat. After five more minutes of intense combat, only Scott remained, having just knocked the teeth out of an older members mouth, catapulting him into the wall. The bearded man coughed once and tried to stand, but without the control to do so, causing him instead simply slumped down and nodded off.

Scott panted heavily and looked around. Though he dispatched all the challengers, he didn't exactly get through unscathed. He had bruises and welts all over his body, swollen lumps of blue and purple scattered liberally on his face, torso, and arms. He felt the pain of a dislocated rib when he breathed, and last, but certainly not least, he felt bile filling his throat as pulsing waves of agony slowly sauntered through his body. He slowly stumbled towards the back room, praying that this Matilda... Pestilence... whatever, wasn't so tough, because at this state he probably couldn't take Neil in a fair fight, let alone some super powered psycho. He was about to enter when a plot point caught his eye.

In the corner of the room a heart bobbed up and down in the air, slowly blinking. Scott stumbled towards it, leaning on his sword heavily, simultaneously making sure he didn't stab the end into any of the fallen bodies. He slowly reached out for the object, not sure if video game logic or harsh, harsh reality would kick in. When his hand finally came into contact the floating heart disappeared, making a distinct "BLOOP" before vanishing. Scott felt relieved for a few precious seconds, as if he had been kissed by an angel after taking the longest piss of his life and learning that his std test came back negative. When he finally opened his eyes, the intense relaxation wearing off, he realized his wounds had been healed, his bruises subsiding, his ribs reset, and his gut unpunched. He thanked the non denominational god for his generosity and sauntered into Matilda's throne room, with renewed energy and now with confidence.

The periphery of the room was pitch black, Scott unable to see even his arm in front of his own face. A column of light shot down in the center of the room, illuminating the challenger on her throne of gold, surrounded by banks of flickering TV screens and blinking cameras. Her throne was about ten feet in the air, a set of humble stone stairs leading up to its base. Two others, cloaked in black rather than the white of those Scott defeated, stood resolutely, unmoving. With a snap of her fingers the bank of TVs and cameras around her shut down, before retracting up into the black ceiling, fading from view.

Matilda's grey, decrepit face smiled at Scott, glowing eyes fixed on his chest. She spoke, her voice echoing around the darkened chamber "Scott, welcome, to my humble abode. I've been waiting to see you... both of you." she said cryptically, readjusting her black pope hat.

"Cut the crap Matilda, I'm hear to kill ass and chew bubblegum... and I forgot to bring gum." he said, pointing and swinging his blade to the side menacingly.

Matilda's smile widened "Scott, you are my adversary. It is customary for my adversaries to call me by my assassin name, Pestilence. Now that we have that straightened out, I would like to remind you that you are in my home. I am the one who shall decide the pace at which we proceed towards the... unpleasantries. Now, I am quite fascinated by you." she said, cocking her head to the side. "You seem to hate the killing aspect of this business in most cases. Why then, might I ask, have you come here?"

Scott scowled "I'm not playing your little mind games ms. Pestilence. I seriously just want to kill you and leave." He said, approaching her throne, sword sparking brightly in the dim light as he dragged it behind him. Pestilence pressed a small button on her throne and Scott screamed, the floor panel under him dropping out to reveal a seemingly endless chasm. Scott's sword dug into the edge and caught him, just barely saving him from uncertain death.

Pestilence continued to talk as Scott struggled to drag himself out of the pit "Approach me without my consent and this will be a rather short and unimpressive battle. Now, answer me, number 7 assassin, why have you come here, when you detest the prospect of killing. Why have you entered my domain?"

Scott had just rolled out, flat on his back, one hand still clutching his embedded sword like a vice. "I want out, okay? I want to get out of this fucked up life, and if that involves killing the number one, so be it." he panted.

"Hmm, fair enough. Then why, might I ask, did you enter the association?"

Scott rose to his knees "It was an accident."

"You accidentally killed a trained and equipped assassin?"

"NO! I didn't know the guy I was going to kill was an assassin. My girlfriend had this ex... I had to beat him to keep dating her, so I did. A few months later I got a phone call saying that due to a technicality I had killed him, and he was the number 7 assassin. Read the fic at some point."

"So, you had no qualms about killing this man, but you do not wish to kill anyone else?"

Scott was starting to get more frustrated, rising to his feet, sword held tight. "NO. I... I didn't know I was killing him. I hit them enough times, they turned into coins, they were defeated. I never thought of it like they were..."

"Dead. You never knew they were dead. Hmm. Interesting. Very well, next question. Do you know why you lose control?"

Scott stared for a few moments, studying the woman before him. She continued to look instead at his chest. She seemed to know a lot. A lot more than she was telling. He would have told her to can it, told her that he didn't care... but he did. He breathed apprehensively and shook his head, now looking at the ground.

"You see my dear child," Scott cringed. The way she said that, the way it rolled off her tongue, like she had said it a million times and still enjoyed the way it sounded. "You are not a single conscious entity, as most humans would describe it. You likely were at some point, but something in your life changed, drastically, causing you to change. Your conscious mind split, into two halves. One, the one I am speaking to now, is the half of stability, of simple virtue. It is the night in shining armor, that heroically saves the princess, defeats the doers of wrong, and faces the mighty dragons... in this analogy me. The other half is the side of corruption, of chaos. It likes chaos, it likes to be constantly on the move, constantly in danger, constantly on the move. It, or rather you, like to kill. It fills you with accomplishment, one of the basest accomplishments of man: victory. It another half of you, that you have failed to accept as part of your consciousness, one that you thought defeated, until now."

Scott's eyes widened and his hand shot out. His voice was full of surprise and realization as he blurted "Nega-Scott!"

Pestilence raised an eyebrow "If... that is what you wish to call him, then yes."

"But, I DID accept him... me... whatever! I became an adult and... learned my lesson... I learned about accepting my mistakes... and stuff." his mind was racing, his mouth simply unable to keep up with it.

"You may very well have, I may never know. However, something in the past, the much less distant past, has reawaken him, reawaken you. Now, this... Nega-Scott, is much more powerful, and threatening your very existence, and the lives of many who have not seen the light." she stood, her stooped posture still standing no more than 5'4" "Now, I cannot allow you to wantonly kill those who can still be saved, so, I must kill you, rid the world of this demon."

Scott drew his sword out of the ground "No, I'm only going to kill assassins, like you. You can't honestly think assassins are savable, can you?"

Pestilence frowned "You may say that now, but you cannot ensure that you will have the control to hold back. Either I kill you, ending the madness, or you kill me, and a greater fighter than I shall strike you down in time." she paused, lifting her golden staff. "It makes little difference to me, but rules are rules. Two killers enter, one killer leaves."

Scott leapt at the column of light in the center of the room as the cultist's personal guards sprung into action, both drawing and activating strange bladed weapons, which glowed like light saber in the darkness. The two, each with hugely opposing physiques, lunged at Scott, who was quickly closing on the stationary pestilence. The two attacked simultaneously, swinging in high diagonal arks. Scott blocked both with a single swing and countered, kicking the smaller one backwards.

Scott and the large bodyguard where of near equal skill, their blades clashing and whirring in furious arks of death. Scott ducked under a quick slash and was hit in the back by some sort of laser. He looked up in time to see that pestilence was firing at him with her staff, which had some sort of, laser weapon built into the headpiece. Scott growled, and twisted out of the way of a near fatal blow by the big guy. Scott was now on the defensive, slowly moving out of the light as the smaller acolyte rejoined the fight. Scott parried twirled and blocked masterfully, but was steadily overpowered by three near equally skilled opponents.

He then got an idea. He leaped backwards into the darkness, expertly evading a leg sweep by the smaller girl. He continued to back up, now one with the night. The guards went into the dark carefully, realizing Scott's plan. Their laser swords glowed intensely, allowing Scott to spot them with ease while allowing them view of their adversary only when at point blank range. The blades slowly bobbed as the two crept into the darkness. They were getting closer to Scott's kill range.

They saw two red specks, barely visible in the blackness. The specks soon grew to two dots, then to two lights. When they finally figured out what it was, the piercing streams of slowly steaming light had closed in. The tall bodyguard blocked just as Scott's blades was about to connect, sending him toppling back. Scott blinked, causing the he red retinas to fade just for a moments, before returning with a vengeance. Nega-Scott followed up the attack, pounding the man with blow after blow. The girl tried to get him from the back, but was quickly silenced with a fist to the jaw. The acolyte weaved as best as he could, but was no watch for Nega-Scott and his chaotic blows. His sword was soon knocked from his hands, spinning uselessly into the darkness. The man was about to leap for it when Nega-Scott cleaved him in half vertically. His halves toppled and rolled onto the floor, a mix of body fluids spilling out.

Scott breathed in the smell of carnage and smiled, before taking a second laser to the back. He turned to Pestilence, still firing away from her perch. He growled and darted towards her, deflecting the next few bolts with well times slices. He was about to reach the first step up to her when the floor dropped out from under him again. This time he did not panic, he simply plunged his sword into the ground and heaved, throwing him forward in a front flip towards the number 6 assassin. She stood her ground, placing the staff firmly in front of her. Nega-Scott's eyes gleamed in anticipation, as he quickly closed the distance. His blade slashed down and collided, but not with her. A crackling red glow could be seen as Scott's blade stopped about 6 inched from her head. He then felt the wave of energy bounce back, throwing him backwards as hard as he swung, catapulting him right back towards the pit. He gritted his teeth and managed to catch the edge, now very tired of hauling himself up these things.

"A force field eh? Is that how your gonna play you little bitch?" barked the Nega-Scott, just before being attacked by the other guard. The woman swung with precision, as Pestilence fired bolts over her shoulder, but Nega-Scott knew how to get around this. When the woman swung again, Scott ducked forward, before racing up the stairs. Pestilence planted her staff down again, but was surprised when Scott ran around her throne at the last moment, hiding behind the golden seat. Pestilence turned off the force field and quickly turned, but not quick enough. Nega-Scott slashed her throne apart, blade slicing through at the armrest level, and kicked the top at her, sending her tumbling down the stairs. Several sickening cracks are heard before pestilence rolls down the last step, coughing, gasping, and wincing in pain. Nega-Scott gives a dry laugh, before bragging "Did you think I was an idiot, ms. Yulivich? I knew the force field couldn't go all away around the stupid staff, or you'd have no way to hold it."

Nega-Scott then vaulted the halved throne and calmly trotted down the steps to his fallen opponent, who was desperately trying to grab for something within her black sleeve. He was surprised to see the woman guard come back, blocking his path with her sword raised high, poised to strike. Nega-Scott never gave her that Chance though. With one quick blow he sliced though both her arms and neck at shoulder level, splattering blood onto Matilda. For a moment the guard simply stood, motionless. Then, her arms slid off and rolled down the steps, beam sword embedding into the steps. Finally her head toppled back, falling into Pestilence's lap facing the ceiling, her body flopping to the side. The head mouthed a quick "sorry." before it was kicked out of Matilda's lap, sent spiraling into the darkness, trailing blood with it.

Nega-Scott drew his sword back to kill Matilda when she unsheathed her own blade, the red beam of light swinging at Scott's heart. He parried the blow and smiled as Pestilence stood, happy that the old woman had some tricks up her sleeve. The two sliced and countered for several minutes, Matilda's light, fast swings unable to break Scott's solid defense, while the slower and more reckless moves by Nega-Scott gave his enemy ample time to avoid. Scott slashed low and advanced, shoving her into the dark, while Pestilence tried with all her might to keep Scot in check. Finally, Scott gave a powerful downward blow, starting a power struggle (the thing where two people lock swords and try to over power the other. I'm pretty sure you're aware of this.). Nega-Scott had the unquestionable advantage. Pestilence couldn't weigh more than 120 wet, and her thin arms where already on the verge of snapping like twigs. He looked to see the fear in her eyes, to see the unmitigated horror as she realized her imminent demise. It was not there.

Instead when he looked in her eyes, he saw a piercing gaze, one that glowed in the twilight. His strength seeped away from him, as the eyes slowly gained control of his body. Nega-Scott had no power to resist, his arms slowly pushed back against what little will he had left. He was mesmerized, almost entirely at her mercy. She slowly stood, maintaining eye contact the entire time, and pushed Scott's blade into the ground. She placed her hand firmly on Scott's shoulder, still refusing to blink, and slowly pressed down, causing Scott to lower himself to his knees. She continued to stare, Scott's mind now entirely gone, and she puller the cross off her black and red pope hat. The cross detached, revealing it to be a long thin dagger. She lowered the dagger toward Scott's temple, moving it to the exact center. She raised it, ready to end the life of Scotts.

"Get away from him you BITCH!" Came a voice from the darkness. Without further warning, Pestilence was smashed in the gut, flung across the room like a rag doll from the tremendous blow. Scott blinked a few times, and was back to his dopey self, unaware of what was just about to happen. He looked around and finally spotted Ramona, hammer in hand.

"Oh, hey Rammy, what're you doing here?" Scott asked, still on his knees. A cough is heard as Matilda hacks up blood from the blow.

"No time," Ramona says, lifting up Scott with the hammer slung across her shoulder (+2 against girls) "You've got a fight to finish."

Scott nodded and drew his sword, quickly approaching the collapsed Pestilence. He dragged the woman to her feet, still unwilling to kill a woman who can't fight back. Scott wanted to end this as quickly as possible, both for fear of reverting, and because he had nothing cool to say. Matilda gives a stunned gasp as Scott drives the blade through her heart (as well as her abdomen, and just above the left of her navel. The blade is thick as hell man.), and rams it nearly up to the hilt and is splattered as Pestilence barfs up blood and bile onto his shoulder (he was gonna have to change.) He was about to pull out when Matilda clutched him closely, and whispered into his ear, raggedly between forced breathes.

"Listen Scott, we have very limited time remaining" she gave him no time to comment, pressing on as fast as her blood soaked lips could move "You must learn to control your urges, but more than that, learn the lesson you must to make the dark one resign. Grow, evolve, get a grip, figure out how to be an adult. Promise me, you will learn this before you lose all control." she rattled out, slowly stumbling back. Scott was about to reply when Matilda's right foot went back and stepped right over the edge of her own trap, her body whistling down the chasm, Scott's sword still embedded in her chest.

"MY SWORD!" Scott screamed, leaning far over the edge in a desperate attempt to recover his blade. He nearly lost his footing and fell down with Pestilence when Ramona caught him by the edge of his pants and dragged him back.

"Oh no you don't!" she said, pulling him away from the pit. Scott was about to yell, but simply sighed in defeat, knowing she was right to stop him. Neither could see down the chasm, being way to dark, but after a few seconds, both heard a definite squishy bang as Matilda hit the bottom. Two messages appeared before Scott's eyes. The first "PESTILENCE: DEAD!" was written in blood and accompanied by an annoying guitar solo. The second was a more humble 16 bit looking message, reading "Scott lost the 'Power of Understanding' (Subtle, ain't I?)"

Both of them then turned in the general direction of footsteps, before hearing a quick 'clap clap'. The light flicked on, revealing in full detail the nearly plain white room, splattered with blood and corpse bits, with René and his vacuum goons standing no more than ten feet away. "Well done monsieur Pilgrim! An excellent victory indeed, though, not entirely of your own doing..." he said, turning his gaze to Ramona, who hesitantly turned to face him. "If she keeps assisting you, we will have no choice but to put her in the ranks as well..." Chauvin said, smiling a shit eating grin.

The three stared in awkward silence for a few moments, before René spoke again "So? Are you going to claim your prize?" He asked Scott, waving his hand.

Scott looked at him questioningly "What prize?"

René rolled his eyes "Ugh, the one sitting right there!" He said with exasperation, pointing toward Scott's right. Scott looked, and was surprised to see a treasure chest lying next to him.

"Wait, how long has that been there?!"

"A while, now hurry it up monsieur, zee story cannot progress until you claim your prize!" He said, a hint of malice to his words. Scott hesitantly turned, and trued to pull the lock open on the massive treasure chest. After a few seconds of struggle, René gave an "Oh for zee heavens sakes!", strolled over, and kicked the lid off the chest. Coins exploded out of the box, clattering and clinking off the ground before finding their way into Scott's pockets, dragged there by an unknown force. After a few seconds, all the coins had been stored, and above Scott's head a light flashed, reading "$15,000!"

Scott looked back at Chauvin "Wait, why didn't I get treasure last time?"

"Well, you fought people lower zan you, so, you don't get zee treasure. If you got a reward for beating zee people worse zan you, zat would be silly, no?" Scott shrugged. Fair enough. Chauvin's eyes then lit up, as he turned to Scott again "So, about your NEXT fight..." (ooh, the cliffhanger you were explicitly promised!)


	9. Chapter 9

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **I'm sorry this is so late, my computer broke... twice. I am dead serious. I swear that if there are no more technical problems that I will be much more frequent in updates. When you finish this chapter, please read the message at the bottom, as it is important.

SCOTT PILGRIM

Moving on up

Scott looked hesitantly at the lanky Frenchman. Despite his unassuming demeanor, he was still able to put fear into Canada's 6th greatest assassin. "Zee next fight will cost $65,000. How would you like to be paying for zat?" he inquired, innocently clasping his hands together.

If Scott went pale faced from how much the last fight cost, he didn't even want to think about what color his face had turned at the moment. "S-s-s-sixty five? THOUSAND?! I... I don't have that kinda cash on me!" he croaked. "I only have, like, $20,000 on the UAA card, and like, $2,000 in my actual account..." he turned to Ramona, who simply shook her head. She couldn't cover the rest of that.

"Oh no! If you don't have zee cash, how will you pay for your next fights! It is not like you're, similar to, an assassin or anything, one who could legally kill people for money! No, if only!" Chauvin retorted. Scott's eyes narrowed at the VP, hand reaching for a sword that wasn't there.

"If I don't have the money to fight the next guy, how am I supposed to kill him?" Scott retorted.

"Oh for zee love of... You don't have to kill only assassins! Find some rich guys and ask who zey want dead! Be an ASSASSIN! Heck, considering how bad at zee organization part of assassin work, I'll even give you zee name of a firm zat will find you buyers, for only a small percentage of zee contract. Zey go by K-"

Scott cuts him off with the wave of a hand. "No. I'm only going to kill other assassins." he affirmed. "If I have to fight my way out, the bloodshed is going to be kept to a minimum. I'll just wait for a competitor or two." he stepped past Chauvin, Ramona quickly following him. Scott scoffed. "Besides, even if I wanted to kill someone right now, I don't have a sword anymore." he let that sink in a second, dreading having to fight who ever was coming with only his fists.

Scott takes a few more steps towards the door when he hears Chauvin call his name. He turns just in time to see something flying towards his face (guy has a killer arm for his size). Instinctively he throws his hand up to catch the thing... and whiffs it. The metal smacks into his face dead center, causing blood to slowly trickle from his now bleeding nose. Scott plummets onto his arse, but manages to catch the item with his free hand.

Ramona grips him tightly and looks up at Chauvin "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" she roars, her eyes filled with guttural rage.

Chauvin smirked "He asked for a weapon, no?" he nonchalantly replied.

Scott looked into his hand, and finally took the chance to observe the item. It looked like the hilt of an old samurai sword. It had a red grip, approximately 2.5 palms in length, with a round, studded chrome bottom, lanyard knotted around the base. Above the stubby silver hand guard, protruding less than an inch from the handle, was a short, thick spike, no more than 2 inches in height. Lastly, a deep crimson button just under the guard, with an orange light about one centimeter below it (ooh, swapping between generalized, old English, and metric measurement, I also like to live dangerously). Scott looked up at Chauvin, eyebrow raised.

"Go ahead, Monsieur Pilgrim. Turn it on."

Scott pointed the spiked end away from him and hit the button. A hiss of compressed air and a small jet of white smoke blasts out of the spike's base, before the spike is ejected on a pair of thin metal rods outwards. The rods stop after about 3 feet, still connected to the base, and for a brief moment, nothing happens, then, the weapon sparks to life. A thick laser from the base of the guard to the spike is emitted, with four smaller, thinner lasers spring from just above the guard, extending about 3 inches to actually protect Scott's hand. Scott stares at the humming red weapon for a moment, the same weapon Matilda wielded just a few minutes ago. He then smiles, and stands. He experimentally swishes the weapon a few times before him, admiring the fluidity of it compared to his big honkin' anime sword, yet appreciating the power behind it, much more power than the power of love (that's right, I said it. Go to hell Huey Lewis!),

Scott started swishing it about faster, spiraling and slashing about as he played out his childhood fantasies in short order. "Oh shit this is awesome! I feel like a Jedi with this thing!" he squealed, spinning the blade around in both his hands, not even caring about the blood leaking down onto his shirt.

Ramona gave a short, light chuckle before contended "Scott, your the nerd hear, but I'm pretty sure only the bad guys used the red ones."

Scott's face turned pouty "Sith." he and René said in unison. Scott turned the weapon off and tied it to his belt with the provided lanyard, before looking up at René, then back at Ramona. "So, now what?" he asked sheepishly, not sure where to go from here.

"Now, you go zee hell home, get some shut eye, and wait for zee next assassin to kick in your door." Chauvin giddily announced, his clean up crew returning to his side, having completed their usual task. Scott again frowned in frustration, reminded of his new life of murder and danger. He wished more than anything to return to his old life of laziness and danger, a proposition that seemed more heavenly by the moment. He solemnly nodded and proceeded out the door into the cathedral. Ramona was quickly at his side, putting an arm around him and jostling him a bit.

"Hey, cheer up man! Since you beat that cult chick, you only have five more to go! I bet most of them don't even have armies of minions!" she said, taking her hat off (a red and white baseball hat with the pizza place's logo on the front). Scott continued to sulk over to the entrance, passing the still unconscious bodies on the floor. He didn't believe her, after today he COULDN'T believe her. The old number six nearly killed him several times, and have dozens of followers. If the number 5 had more money, and was a better assassin, he surely would be a harder fight, not to mention the number four and so on.

Scott passed by the main hall, noting the lack of corpses here (cleaners must have come in after him), before looking up at the stain glass murals. Even in death, Pestilence's stare managed to pierce his soul... piercing gaze... GAZE! He dropped to his knees as his cranium surged and pulsed with agony, his mind jumping back to the last time he was in a trance, memories he didn't have until now. He remembered Pestilence subduing him, forcing him to get onto his knees, and poised to kill him. He then saw Ramona, smashing her away, saving Scott. His memories then caught up to these images, and played in fast forward, back up to the present, with Ramona slapping his face lightly as he lie on the ground. He blinks twice as he came back to now.

"SCOTT!" Ramona yelled again, unaware that his episode was over. Scott groaned and sat up, rubbing his still pained head. Ramona clutched him tightly, breathing heavily. "Scott! Don't scare me like that!" she panted. Scott pushed away from her, now locking eyes.

"What happened?" he asked, clueless.

"You looked at these weird windows, started shaking, then passed out! You just hit the floor and started screaming, grabbing your head! I thought... I didn't know what to think!" she responded, maintaining eye contact, making sure he wasn't about to go down again.

"Huh. That's... that's weird..." his mind was too full to form a sentence. What was this? What kind of power did that woman have? It seems he could never remember what she was doing until he looked at these images. Why was Ramona there? Why did she come? How did she know where to go? How... why... ugh! He couldn't get his head clear with this headache... if that's what it was. He didn't feel "right". Something in him... something in him felt wrong.

"Hey... hey Rammy." he asked, getting her attention. "I have a lot of... of questions to ask you, and... and I'm pretty sure you have a bunch too, but..." he struggled to put his words together "I'm... I don't feel well... I just... I just want to lie down... I want to go home." he hazily added, trying to get himself to his feet.

Ramona helped Scott up, wrapping her arm around his shoulder while doing likewise with his arm. "Don't worry Scott, we're going home." she said, walking both of them to the door. Scott was walked to the street, where a cab was already waiting. Ramona ushered him to the back seat, sitting him down while he rubbed his now beet red face. He heard the familiar voice of Bill Gazpa, berating him for ditching work, but he couldn't pick out any actual words. After a while, Ramona shut him up with a snappy comeback, one that he couldn't make out over the ensuing blackness. he was getting woozy, and was developing severe tunnel vision.

They drove for what seemed like hours, all the while Scott slowly slipped out of consciousness. Ramona asked multiple times if he wanted to be taken to the hospital, but he refused tenaciously. He hated doctors, always did. One screw up and the man trying to save his life would end up finishing it.

Finally, they arrived at there destination, Car lurching to a stop. Ramona helped Scott out, lifting him onto his feet before guiding him through the door... the door of the El Potosi air port. Through the haze, Scott noticed this and spoke up "What... Ramona... Why are we here? I thought... I..." he couldn't finish his thought, he had to focus all his efforts on keeping his legs from giving out.

"Surprise!" she said as enthusiastically as she could manage, "We are going home, to Toronto!" Scott mumbled something incoherent, even to himself. Ramona simply propped him up on the counter while she kept speaking, digging through her subspace bag for there passports "If we only came here to get away, and we actually can't escape, why should we stay in this crap hole? I just thought it would be a nice surprise for you if we went back home after this fight."

Scott smiled weakly. He was happy one of them was smart enough to think of that. He ceased asking questions as he was lead about, loaded onto the same Cessna they had arrived in, piloted by the same John. Ramona lowered him onto the grate flooring of the plane, Scott now effectively blind and deaf. After what he perceived to be a few moments, he felt a fistful of pills being loaded into his palm. He heard the faint echo of a voice, and threw the pills casually into his mouth. He felt better, he really did. The pain was more of a numbing throb now, and his head was a little clearer. He spoke softly, barely awake "I'm going to... take... a... quick nap..." he then allowed himself to slip into unconsciousness.

**Transition Time!**

Scott was fully awake, his senses alert to all that was around him, including the wind whipping past his face. He looked around for a moment, seeing nothing but total blackness, his own body, and the ground. Something was wrong. The first thing he was able to note about the situation, was that he was not in any clothes he ever owned. He was wearing simple white pants, a pair of pure white sneakers, and a blank white T-shirt, with a glowing red circle in the dead center, approximately the size of his closed fist. Secondly, the ground was jagged and rocky, with massive black spires of stone jutting from cracked and crumbling asphalt like dirt, all with thick, viscous rivers of lava flowing through the landscape liberally. The third thing he was able to deduce, was that he wasn't ON the ground, he was plummeting towards it at an alarming rate, his fall simulating the effects of wind blowing on his face.

Scott spun his arms in cartwheels and screamed as he dropped like a stone. He closed the distance rather quickly, and within a few seconds, he could feel the heat coming from the molten terrain below. He crossed his arms in front of his face and tucked his legs as impact became imminent, and was lucky he did. He slammed into the side of one of the jagged peaks, the brittle rock shattering on impact, still digging into his back roughly enough that he howled in pain. He rolled and tumbled down the steep slope, eyes clenched tight in fear as all he could do was tuck and wail. He bumped once on a particularly large outcropping of igneous rock, and was sent spiraling off the slope. He spun three times before smashing into the gravelly shores of the lava lake, continuing to roll until finally, mercifully, coming to a stop just 2 yards from the superheated rock.

Scott coughed and moaned, the air ashy and stale down here. Also he kind of rolled down a mountain that catapulted him into the dirt. He opened his eyes again and got to his knees, panting heavily. He looked himself over, expecting to see a wide range of deep gashes and bloody bones stabbing through his tattered skin, but instead was greeted by his normal body and weird shirt, now ashy, but completely undamaged. He inspected his legs to find a similar lack of damage. He raises an eyebrow. "Why has everything gotten so weird since this UMA thing started?" he thought aloud.

He leapt back a foot when he unexpectedly heard a reply, from an even more unexpected voice "Weird' is an entirely perception based word, Scott. It is based entirely on what you see continuously. To an enlightened such as myself, this sight is mundane," came Pestilence, smiling from atop her golden throne. She sat on her throne across a river of lava 15 feet wide, the red hot magma giving her black cloaks some illumination. It was her, in the old, withered flesh.

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?!" Scott asked impatiently, looking at her body to avoid eye contact.

Pestilence shrugged, face nonchalant "Probably. I was stabbed in the heart."

Scott frowned. More non answers "So... are you dead? Where are we exactly? You seem to know what's going on." he inquired, now on his feet.

She again shrugged "I may be dead, this may be a dream, and I do know what is going on. I will say this: you will come to understand why I have brought you here, and you will learn what I have to teach." she responded. "For now, you will learn to use the gift you have been given, my beam katana."

Scott paused for a moment, replaying that a few times, before groaning in frustration "UGH. This is a stupid tutorial mission, isn't it?"

Pestilence smiled "You catch on quick, good. You'll need to if you wish to survive the challenges I have in store for you." she paused, before raising her  
hand. From the river rose 4 glowing blobs of lava, each rising to about 6 feet in height before leveling off. The blobs then reshaped, molding themselves into a rough humanoid shape, slowly blackening into cool rock. Finally, four men made of rock stood in the river, each brandishing a spear of stone. "Your first challenge is to defeat all the enemies. Whenever you are ready." she said coyly.

Scott looked at the stone men, each standing motionless over the lava, standing on it as if it was solid. He inhaled and closed his eyes, giving a short prayer "Please, let me get back to Ramona safe, please let me get out of the hellhole." He then opened them, took the beam Katana off his belt (he didn't know how he knew it was still their... but he did) and held it in front of him. With the hiss and puff of compressed air, the head unlatched, then extended to it's full three feet. After a moment, the laser activated, the dull hum barely audible over the sound of the bubbling rock.

"Let's do this." Scott uttered in as badass a voice as he could manage (better than he expected). The rock men then lumbered at him, stomping up onto the shore and straight at our hero, spears held aloft. The first to reach Scott jabbed hard with the weapon, but did so as gracefully as a rhino. Scott easily evaded the attack and cut deeply into the rock man's side, but failed to bisect him. "Crap" he said panicked, his blade embedded into the minion's torso. It pulled it's hand back and attempted to swat Scott away, but again was too slow. Scott ducked his head down while pulling back with all his might, freeing his blade with a crackling sizzle. He spun and cut in the opposite direction, time slowing as his weapon arced through the air. His second cut lined up perfectly with the first and tore the beast in two, sending it's upper body onto the ground. The rock crumbled to bits in an instant, the whole rock being reduced to more gravel.

Scott had no time to celebrate though, as one of the creatures took hold of his arms in a crushing vice grip and held him in place. A second one came up to the now trapped Scott, weapon primed. Scott kicked and squirmed to no avail, watching in horror as the rock being closed the gap in several strides. It pulled back and drove it's spear at Scott's head. Scott yelped and shifted his head hard to the right. The spear clipped his ear hard, but Scott lived. The stone man holding him wasn't so lucky, as the missed attack drove deep into where it's heart should be, causing him to disintegrate.

Scott laughed as he was released, slashing upwards at the outstretched stone hand. The blade cracked through the stone hand, which offered a fair level of resilience against what was essentially a light saber. The being swung it's stump at Scott, who evaded gracefully, ducking under the blow and smashing his blade into the back of the beings leg. The sword only made it halfway, before stopping. Scott tore it out and hopped back as the rock monster took another swing at him.

Scott angrily looked at his blade, and saw the problem. While before the blade glowed a glorious shade of gleaming crimson, it now fizzed and cracked a dull red, cutting out every few moments and sporadically flickering. "Shit, I'm running low on juice!" Scott said, continuing to evade the two perusing rock men. He ducked below a right hook by the injured one, before leaping into the air, turning his blade, and ramming the spiked end through the head of the injured one. It too fell to pieces, and Scott was left with one rock creature. He was about to swing when he heard a distinct "ZZtt" from his weapon.

The blade flickered one last time before fading, leaving Scott with a big metal pokey thing. He was about to curse when the spike retracted back down to the guard, apparently unable to stay out without the laser. "Double crap" Scott said, before looking back at Pestilence.

"Challenge two" she hollered, raising her aged fingers "learning how to recharge a beam katana."

Scott inspected the sword nervously, looking all over for some sort of... anything that he had missed. The red button was of no use, he discovered, now only giving a sharp "beep" when he clicked it. He continued to look it over as he back pedaled away, trying to find any hidden switch or plug in. He noticed now, though of little consequence, that indeed there appeared to be some sort of battery meter, as the light on the side of the sword was now flashing red. He continued his retreat, banging on the handle with the flat of his hand, looking for a battery slot, and trying to hold the button down, all to no avail. Scott continued his retreat, growing more panicked by the moment, as he was slowly pushed towards the lava river.

His foot was now teetering on the edge of the river, the monster only a few yards away. "C'MON!" he shouted, shaking the handle with both hands up and down furiously. He closed his eyes in terror and shook on, unable to stop as the thing lumbered ever closer. His eyes snapped open as he heard a beeping, and looked at his sword. The small light had turned from a dull blinking red, to a vibrant green, signaling a change of some sort. With no time to spare, he pointed the blade at the monsters head and prayed for the best, hitting the button.

The spike easily punched through the monster, the red blade vibrant even against the glow of the magma a few feet away. The monster fell to bits before the panting and wide eyed Scott. He stumbled forwards, away from the lava, and collapsed, the adrenaline shock getting to him. He rolled onto his side and looked at Pestilence, who was beaming. "Excellent, you are almost finished with learning the basics of beam katana use. Now, for your third and final test of today, you shall learn a new move, the **bullet reflect**!" She paused, summoning another monster.

This one, rather than wielding a spear, had long, thick arms, with dozens of spikes protruding from it's forearms. "Now Scott, listen very carefully, or you will be severely injured: First, you will need to turn your lower body, so that it is perpendicular to the shooter. Next, you must pull the katana back as if it was a bat, with the exposed end facing towards your opponent. Finally, you will lift your leg, step INTO the shot, and swing, arcing your blade upwards."

Scott got into position, slowly twirling his blade around like a batter up to pitch. "FIRE!" One of the spikes launched off the monster's arm and flung itself at Scott at nearly the speed of sound, tearing through the air like a... thingy that goes fast. Scott blinked and the projectile tore through his shoulder, knocking him flat on the ground while it continued to fly through the air and smash into the sloped spire behind Scott, shattering.

"SON OF A-" Scott cried, clutching his shoulder tightly. He rolled on the ground a few times, before noticing the pain had subsided. He again looked at where the gaping hole in him should have been, and instead was met with nothing but his plain white tee. "Oh yeah..." he said, remembering this game's rules. He hopped to his feet, in position again. Again, the spike fired and tore through him, his hands still reacting too slow to deflect it. He got up again, cursing under his breathe as he rubbed the sore spot on his chest. A third shot and he almost makes it, but ends up simply skimming it, the shot smacking him in the thigh. Four more shots, and he's thinks he has the timing down. He took a step back, narrowing his eyes. Despite the lack of permanent wounds, he was still staring to feel woozy from pain, uncertain of how much more of this he could take.

With a crack, an eight spike was fired. Scott swung hard, just as the crack went off, and struck the attack. The rock traveled along his blade, the momentum carrying it while the laser heated it, but allowed it to pass, before being flung back at the creature. The rock monster was blown to bits as the rock tore through it's head, flying right at Pestilence.

Scott watches in awe as the frail, grizzled woman snatched the spike from the air, tossing it aside casually before speaking "It appears you've learned how to redirect attacks. Good. You'll need it. Now, heed these words, young Pilgrim, and you will be one step closer to your goal."

Scott interrupted "Why exactly do you want to help me? Why teach me how to fight when you want me to die?"

"I do not wish death upon you, no more so than any other soul at least, I only wish for balance. If you are killed by the UAA, still ignorant, then the world has been balanced. However, if I can simply balance your soul, give you back your whole person, then I have also succeeded. Now, as to why I have taught you to fight: to teach one anything, one must be taught in the mind, body, and spirit. If I were simply to tell you what you must learn, you would reject it, never truly accepting it into your thoughts. Now that I have taught you physically the concept of trial and error" Scott nodded in surprise, realizing that that actually made sense, "I can guide you along your path mentally. You learned before that you must accept your past, when you defeated this evil within you, and that is commendable. Now then, you must accept what comes after."

Scott raised his eyebrow "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Pestilence simply smiled and waved, as Scott slowly faded away in a ray of light, phasing out of the strange world he had fallen into.

**Transition!**

Scott gasped as his eyes opened, not remembering ever having closed them. At least he was getting a good view. Above him was the starry night sky of Toronto, the twinkling dots glistening in the relative darkness. The most beautiful thing above him though, was the soft face of Ramona, looking deeply into his eyes, lightly stroking his hair as his head lay in her lap.

Scott smiled up at her, getting her hard expression to soften a little. She spoke softly, almost a whisper "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay. What happened? You where asleep the whole flight, kept talking to yourself and moaning... You didn't even wake up when the plane landed... I called a cab about ten minutes ago... should be here soon."

"Okay. Where am I now?"

"... On a bench at James airport." both looked into each other for a few moments, holding onto every moment, before Ramona spoke again "So, care to explain that little episode?"

"Ugh. This again..."

**Author's notes part 2: **Okay, I have three pieces of info I would like to tell you. The first is that I need your help. I have this series planned out, since I didn't want to be flying blind, but I left out a major detail. While I went out and made sheets, charts, and clones of the assassins that Scott will face, I didn't really think of any good challengers, assassins Scott fights for the cash to fight higher level assassins. That is where you come in. I need you to Submit an OC to be used as cannon fodder! You may submit as many as you want, however, you must follow these rules, and submit it in this format:

1. assassins are NOT allowed to be related in any way to any assassins from the American league, specifically the Santa destroy subsidiary.

2. assassins may NOT be samurai or ninja. I have enough of those coming.

3. assassins may be sues, but know then that I may kill them in ridiculous manner.

4. assassins may use any handheld or multi handed/ footed/ body mounted/ head based weapons, but no mounted, vehicle, or crew operated weapons (EX. a mounted m-2 machine gun, a tank, or an artillery piece).

5. assassins may be of any nationality, creed, ethnicity, or race. Unless they are filthy Antarcticans, at which point they will be denied.

6. I will inform you of my thoughts on your OC, and may make changes that I feel improve them, or make them better fitting towards my goals. If you do not approve, you may tell me to not make the changes, and send in a different OC.

7. when your OC dies, you may send a new one. You may not submit one while your character is still living.

8. Please submit via PM, so as not to spoil it for anyone else.

Submission slip:

NAME:

GENDER:

AGE:

COUNTRY OF ORIGIN:

HEIGHT:

WEIGHT:

APPEARANCE:

CLOTHING:

PERSONALITY:

WEAPON(S):

FIGHTING STYLE: how they fight and use there weapon, not there branch of kung fu (unless that is their weapon)

STRENGTHS:

WEAKNESSES: (must have at least one)

Second, I am going to go back and edit all my old chapters so they don't have as may grammatical errors. When the job is done I will delete this part of the message.

Third, I lied. There are only two things I had to say.

REVIEW!


	10. Chapter 10

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Next chapter in two weeks. Tired. Possibly poisoned. Will post more. I know there are at least 2 of you, so please enjoy. Side note, I have received no OC submissions, which I'm not really surprised about, just disappoint. Sorry description is so short and disjointed, but I seriously am tired as hell (weird, since it's only 10.)**

Scott Pilgrim

And the near infinite exposition

He wasn't going to talk to her about it, at least, not just her. He needed to talk to someone else. He would need someone with wisdom; someone who could be considered a role model. That is why when Scott gave the address to the tiring taxi driver, Ramona simply nodded and kept quiet. They drove in silence for several minutes, the driver looking back only once to inspect Scott's beam Katana (+4 Phys. Attack, +5 Burn Dam., +2 Skill, -3 Psych., in case you were curious) , assuming it was simply a toy and that his passenger was an overgrown man child (one of those was wrong).

After a few more minutes, the taxi pulled up to the curb, Scott pays the man with his UAA card, and the assassin/ ninja delivery girl combo exit the vehicle as the taxi rides off into the night. Scott strides into the building, a stone cafe, one of many, well established in Canada. He approached the front counter and was greeted by a surprised, yet familiar face. "Oh, Hi Scott! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be gone for a while." Stacey said cheerfully, simultaneously cleaning the counter.

"I'll explain in a second. First, I have to talk to Julie." Scott uttered. Ramona's eyes bulged and Stacey raised her eyebrow in shock.

"Uh... okay..." Stacey responded, before disappearing into a back room. After a few moments, yelling was heard from behind the door, followed by what sounded like murmured apologizes. After another round or two of this, Julie burst out of the door, sporting a second cup uniform and a pissed off attitude.

"Okay, but I swear if you're lying about this, I'll-" she turned away from Stacey and eyed Scott, blank but determined expression unwavering in the face of total bitchy-ness. Julie pauses, looking over Scott for a moment before speaking, bluntly "Huh, so the prodigal son IS back, and he apparently has a new toy. Stacey, sorry for like, yelling at you, or whatever." She said, rolling her eyes in disgust.

Despite the bitterness, both Ramona and Stacey where stunned by this apology. Julie apologizing? That was like, a sign of the apocalypse, right? That was weirder than Scott blacking out for 7 hours, and him showing up again in four days after saying he would be gone for over a year (respectively). "Uh, it's cool... no, uh, no problem."

Scott looked into the eye of the beast and spoke, slowly, definitively. "Julie… I need you… to let me and Stacey stay after closing, for like, twenty minutes. I want to talk to her about some stuff. Like, serious, SERIOUS stuff."

Julie stared him down, eyes narrowing. "Store closed five minutes ago."

"Well, then I'll only stay fifteen. Just... let us talk here."

They stood in silence for almost a minute, Julie lulling over the consequences and reasons not to in her head. In the end, it came down to laziness "Stacey, promise to clean out the trash, finish the dishes, turn off the lights, and lock up?" She inquired, not turning from Scott.

"Uh, yeah sure, I guess." Stacey responded, knowing she would likely be told to do that anyway.

Julie reconsidered for one brief moment, before groaning "...uuuughhh... Fine, you can stay 'til 9:25. MAX. But I swear, if anything is out of place, stolen, broken, or generally fucked up when I get back tomorrow, it'll be your ASSES Pilgrims! Got it?" she blasted, shaking her fist. The two Pilgrims nodded in response. Julie pushed past them and out the door, heading home. She stopped briefly outside to do the classic "Eye have you", before disappearing from sight.

Stacey sighed with a mix of relief at Julie's departure and anguish at Scott's seriousness. What could cause the goofy, mostly fulfilled person that is Scott Pilgrim to be so grave? She would have time to ask that soon. Right now, there were drinks to mix and dishes to clean.

**A SHORT PERIOD OF TIME LATER.**

"Okay, everything seems to be spic n' span." Stacey said, placing three cups on the table "Also, did you seriously stand up to Julie just for some free drinks?" she asked, taking a sip of her decaf iced coffee.

Scott shrugged "Eh, just because I have money doesn't mean I hate free things... plus, I DO need to talk to you, a lot of stuff has come up recently, and you're like, my second mentor." He replied, slurping his decaf caramel iced cappuccino with whip.

"Ha! You? Money? What, did you find an extra five in your pocket or something?" Stacey responded, taking a righteous victory sip at her successful burn.

"No! I have, like, an extra $20,000 dollars in the bank." Scott responded, slightly hurt. Stacey gagged and spat up her coffee, in a state of shock.

She started stammering, when Scott spoke up "So, I guess that's my cue to start my explaining. So, about a week ago, I got a mysterious phone call, right? The guy on the other end said that I killed Gideon."

Stacey stopped him, listening with intent, but still unable to go without correcting her sibling. "Which you did."

"Ugh, why does everyone say that? I DEFEATED him, I didn't... you know... send him to the big arcade in the sky. Look, point is that after six months of bickering and arguing about the semantics of who killed who, they settled on the idea that I killed Gideon. Problem is, this guy was apparently Canada's seventh greatest assassin. A fact that SOMEHOW never came up." He and Stacey looked accusingly at Ramona, who sheepishly finished sipping her Latte.

"Hey, when a guy starts blathering on about every little thing in his life, and about how great they are, you tend to zone out, and when you do, some stuff might slip past you." she responded defensively. "I don't remember every stupid thing Scott brings up about videogames, but does that make me a bad person?"

Stacey rolled her eyes "So, basically, you killed Gideon and now they say you're the new number seven assassin, and the only way out is to kill up to the number one spot and retire, that about right?" She asks tiredly, staring at the ceiling.

"Yeah, how did-"

"It's like, ninjas 101. You kill the clan master, now you are the clan master. It's like, a thing. So, asides from giving me a reason to yell at Wallace, what have you come here for? I mean, I'm not exactly the person to ask about Combat training or how to tame wild beasts." she inquired, eyebrow raised again.

Scott breathed heavily in degradation, trying to find the words that eluded him "Yeah... I came to talk to you about something else... or, someONE else." He replied cautiously, fiddling with his bendy straw "Well... there's this guy, right? A guy who looks like me... looks exactly like me... except he looks evil... and he lives in my head." He started, looking down at the table as both girls eyes burrowed into him. "This guy... Nega-Scott... is the evil that I have hidden in me... or, my denial of the past... or, something. I don't know; I never really got it. Let's just say he is the evil version of me. Anyway, this other Scott... not THAT other Scott but... yeah... he is slowly taking me over, making me transform into him from time to time when I start killing people. This one girl, Matilda, says that if I don't learn my lesson quick, He'll take me over permanently, and that's no good! So... yeah, I've got an evil guy inside me." He finished, finally looking up.

Ramona was handling it somewhat well. She was still a little in shock, but having seen it first hand, was at least a little prepared for it. Stacey on the other hand seemed to be dumbfounded, bamboozled, and perplexed (X3 combo!). She breathed in heavily a few times before softly replying "Oh, Wallace is going to be DEAD for not telling me this." She said, buying more time to organize her thoughts.

"Wallace doesn't know about him. He just thinks I get off on killing people." He retorted defensively.

Stacey shook her head angrily "STILL! That is something I would have liked to know... so, as well as now being a world renowned assassin, you're also an angry bipolar maniac. Swell. Anything else you'd like to drop on me? Are you also a stripper now? Are you suddenly into polygamy?"

"Hey, it's not like I wanted Nega Scott to come back! I just-"

"Wait, you had him before?!" Stacey asked, hands slamming onto the table.

"Well, only once or twice! Last time was when I went up to Kim's house to try and forget about Ramona." he responded, scratching the back of his neck as the girls angrily glared at him. "I was talking to Kim, I was about to forget her... forget you... and then HE showed up. I tried to fight him I tried to defeat myself, tried to leave the past behind... but Kim thought otherwise. She told me to stop running, to face up and accept him, so I did. He went into me, and I held onto you Ramona." He finished, finishing off his drink. He nearly spat as a realization spawned "Wait, I accepted him into me... INTO ME! Aw, that's how he got into my head! Kim let me let me into me! What the hell?!"

Ramona had never been told this part of the story this way before, she had only been told that Scott went to Kim's parents' on a wilderness sabbatical, struggled with his past, and manned up. She didn't think he LITERALLY struggled with his past. "Geez Scott, this is pretty heavy. So, you and him are both in you, and both of you are you, but he only takes control of you when he and you are fighting?"

Scott nodded "Almost... but it's not when I'm fighting, it's when I and we are killing."

Stacey interrupted, now thoroughly frustrated "SHUT UP! What exactly do you need my help with? Because from where I'm sitting, this isn't a problem I can help you with."

Scott nodded. "Well, this one assassin, a magic cult woman named Matilda... something... something foreign..."

"Something foreign?" Stacey asked jokingly.

"Yeah... Yurian or something... anyway, she looked into my soul and saw that I and Nega Scott had split because of something recent, and to bring balance to the universe, I have to grow as a person, and learn some sort of lesson. So, I came to you. Maybe you can think of something profound so I can get on with my life." He finished.

Stacey frowned "So, you want me to sort your shit out for you?" She asked rhetorically.

"Well, when you say it like that..." Scott trailed off.

"Ugh, fine, I'll try. So, you got a mysterious phone call, got pulled into a league of crazy, conspicuous assassins, and you have maintained a fairly stable relationship with the girl of your dreams... What could need fixing?" She continued to think to herself as Scott's phone buzzed, a text message from a familiar number.

"Who is it?" inquired Ramona, Stacey still deep in thought.

"Uh, we might have to brainstorm later." Scott answered cryptically. Before anyone could question, a thud was heard. Not a loud thud, but a deep one, distant. Soon, another thud was heard, closer, followed by another, all in a steady rhythm, each ever so slightly louder than the last. Scott stood, and unhooked his blade. "We may want to leave, I don't want Julie coming after me because some inconsiderate ass blew up the store."

"Wait, is someone coming to kill us right now?!" Stacey asks, panicked.

"No, just me." Scott replies calmly. The three of them swiftly leave the building, as the thumping becomes a thunderous cacophony of metal slamming against asphalt. As Scott steps onto the curb, he finally catches sight of the source of the racket. Down the street, a hulking metal monstrosity, painted a brash crimson, comes trotting towards them. The being walks on two thick, three toed legs, its heavy footfalls crush footprints into the ground below. The walker's arms are thick, and rather than ending in hands, end in oval shaped holes, the insides of which are filled with metal barrels of varying sizes, calibers, and lengths. Finally, on the torso of this great golem, lies a near pitch black viewport, nothing visible except a piercing pair of glowing green goggles. All in all, the metal man stands at 9 feet in height.

People scream and point as the mech stomps down the street, its arms swaying rhythmically. Scott spins the katana defiantly before activating it, gripping the weapon in his right hand as his left lies motionless. Finally, with a pair of powerful "THUD"s, the red mech comes to a halt, approximately 4 feet from Scott. Ramona and Stacey stand several feet behind him, both with a concerned expression, and both with the same thought on their mind. "Scott, PLEASE be careful. I really don't want to be banned from the second cup." Ramona says, motioning towards the building. "Please try and move the fight across the street."

The man within the mech spoke, a speaker in the suit's chest cavity amplifying his voice, and giving it a slightly tinny ring "Scott W. Pilgrim?" Requested a distinctly Russian, somewhat hard voice. Scott nodded, and raised his blade. The mech raised its right hand, the barrels all pointed at Scott. Scott stood defiantly, ready to use what Matilda had taught him. A loud whirring was heard within the mech, and one of the barrels (a thick, stubby one) began to glow and shake, pressure slowly building. The whir grew louder and louder, each passing second raising it an octave. Scott simply got into position and readied himself.

With a sharp ping the whirring stopped, and Scott swung as quickly as he could, the laser blade of his weapon swishing through the air with a definite electric sizzle. He opened his eyes and saw the mech had not fired, instead, a small paper tube on a stick was poking out of one of the various barrels. "I have a message for you." Said the man uncaringly. Scott raised an eyebrow, staring into the viewport of the mech for several moments before slowly removing the paper from the mech's possession. He continued to look at the visitor as he slowly unrolled the paper. The robotic arm of the mechanical man was lowered, and Scott finally looked at the note, reading it aloud for Ramona and Stacey.

_"Dear Scott Pilgrim,_

_It has come to my attention that you have defeated the previous number 6 assassin, pestilence. I thank you for this, as she had quite a track record, and unfortunately my weapons are not quite numerous enough to take her down. Unfortunately, this means that you will now die, for now our paths must cross. Once you are removed from the picture, I shall be one step closer to being the #1 Canadian assassin (Today Canada, tomorrow, THE WORLD! HA-HA-HA-HA! Ahem). Prepare to die at the hands of my legion of Robots Mr. Pilgrim._

_With regards,_

_ Dr. Prof. Robert Nikolai Willis (PHD in evil robotics, evil economics, and masters in evil art history)"_

Scott paused briefly, before groaning "UGH! That's not fair! You can't have a legion of robots do your assassinating for you! That should totally be against the rules!" he exclaimed, looking at the mechanized mailman.

The robot did the best shrug equivalent it could, before responding "Hey man, I don't make the rules, I just deliver mail. It puts food on the table." With that, he turned, and slowly plodded off, stomps fading into the distance. The three of them stood in silence in several moments, waiting for the thuds to disappear fully, before Scott broke the stillness by deactivating his beam katana.

Stacey smiled, relieved "Well, that went better than expected. You didn't have to fight anyone, you didn't cause any public unrest... well, any MAJOR public unrest, and the store has remained unscathed." she finished, motioning to the second cup.

"Yeah, I'm relieved too." Scott said, looking for some wood to knock on. "Well, me and Rammy should really get going, get to see what kind of damage the looters have done to our house." He waved bye to Stacey as he wrapped an arm around Ramona. He had just taken his first step away when Stacey spoke up.

"Wait little bro, aren't you forgetting something?"

Scott thought for a moment "Uh, not that I can remember."

"Geez, how do you even FUNCTION on a daily basis? YOUR WHOLE DUAL PERSONA ISSUE?!"

Scott shrugged "Well, I don't need the answers RIGHT now, just before I kill someone who doesn't deserve it. Just make a list of possibilities and call me tomorrow, I'll tell you if I have a revelation." He replied, before waving and heading off into the night.

**TRANSITION!**

Imposing walls of stone and mortar rose from the hill, dominating the skyline for miles around. The rising sun shot rays of penetrating light at the otherwise dark and lugubrious structure. From the mighty stone walls, just over 20 feet in height, built onto a hill of 30, Castle EideBöse in south Bavaria stood strikingly above the desolate town of Tötelan. The castle had one thick tower, jutting from the very center, where a gluttonous set of gothic windows jutted out. Within the castle was a single man, sitting behind a mahogany writing desk, slowly typing at an anachronistic computer. This man wore a simple white lab coat, name stitched into the lapel. He was clothed in simple black pants, and wore brown loafers a size too large. He smiled deviously from behind his desk as a now familiar thudding was heard in the distance.

"That will be the mail boy now, just on time" he said to himself, his massively mustachioed mouth and grey lips producing a thick German accent. A few moments later, said mail boy crashed through the ceiling, landing gracefully on his metallic feet. The German rolled his eyes, not looking up from his computer "You know, there is a door, approximately 3.274 meters away" he said dryly.

The mech again did its best to shrug "Eh, I like making an entry."

The man finally looked up, removing his monocle and rubbing it with a specialized cloth. "I can see that. Did you give the Pilgrim boy my message?"

The mech responded "Yes, he claims your cheating, Mr. Willis."

The German frowned "That's Dr. Professor Willis to you; I didn't go to four years of evil trade school to be called 'Mr.'. Now then," he said, replacing his monocle, "It is time to enact phase one. Mail boy, activate attack Robot 1. We'll see how well this new number 6 likes playing with fireworks!" he cackled maniacally for several moments, before abruptly adding "As well, send in cleaning robot 3 to fix this... damage.

**TRANSITION**

Scott and Ramona stepped out of the subspace door and onto the streets of Toronto, about a block from Ramona's place. "Hey, Rammy, I was wondering: I get that we where in disguise going down to Texas, but why couldn't we take subspace back up? You know, save on some hours and some money?" Scott asked.

"Like I know the subspace routes that far south, geez." She replied sarcastically, hand waving logic away like a pesky fly. Scott simply rolled his eyes as they walked up the path to the door, hands still entwined. Scott dug around in his pocket with his free hand, face contorting in concentration. A few moments later, his face grew red, and his lips cracked into a guilty smile.

"Uh, Rammy, could you... use your key? I kinda forgot mine..." He said shakily, doing his best to remain nonchalant (and failing).

Ramona slyly grinned "I dunno... I said I wouldn't let you back in if you didn't have your key... I made a promise." She replied, playfully batting him about as a cat would with its prey.

"Oh c'mon, I'm... we're right here... please don't lock me out?" He nearly begged, hand clasping harder around hers.

She swiveled her head around in mock consideration, humming as she did, before finally replying "... Yeah, all right, just this once. Though, you're going to have to make it up to me later somehow..." she finished lustfully, practically purring as she whipped her key out. She turned the lock and opened the door, pulling at Scott's hand to follow her in. As she pulled, Scott pulled closer as well. Their lips met as they stepped in, and they continued to kiss as they slowly but surely walked in, Ramona batting the door closed with her booted heel.

Scott's eyes opened slightly, then shot open in surprise as he faced the kitchen. He broke off from Ramona "Wallace?" he asked aloud. Sure enough, Wallace Wells laid sprawled out on the kitchen table, shirt half un tucked, hair in maximum bed head mode, and half a bottle of beer within his grasp, accompanied by half a dozen empty ones scattered liberally around the table.

Wallace groaned a little, before lifting his head from the table, bleary eyes fixing on Scott "Oh hey guy, what's up? You three where supposed to be here hours ago." he said, pointing accusingly (but not angrily) at Scott.

"Us Three?" Scott asked in confusion, counting only himself and Ramona.

"Yeah, you three. You, Ramona, and evil you." He responded, taking a sip of his grown up juice before his head fell heavily on the table

"Wait, how did you know about-"

"Stacey." Wallace and Ramona said in unison. Not in unison, was Wallace's next statement "She was pissed at me, she really was. She even said so in the text, with an ANGRY FROWNY FACE =(. But I was completely unaware that their where two equally hot Scott pilgrim's in the world, so I guess that makes us even." He finished.

"So... that answers that... but why are you in my house?" Scott asked, trying to get him to leave as quickly as possible.

Wallace giggled giddily, his drink addled mind adding humor where there was none to be had. "Silly Scott, I had to be here to stop looters! I thought you would at least be a little bit grateful or something... saving your stuff and whatnot."

"Well then, who's at your house, protecting your things from your looters?"

"Mobile."

"Who's protecting Mobile's Stuff?"

"Mobile."

"Wait, how does that work?"

"We live together, Scott. We have for a very long time now... you crashed their before, remember?"

Scott did, but didn't say it, instead opting for "Well, thanks for the home defense and everything, really... thanks... you can go now... home... to Mobile." he said, pointing to the door.

Wallace shrugged from his slumped position "Eh, I don't see the rush. We can use this time to catch up, apologize for things, and rethink how we're going to approach this whole assassin deal. It'll be fun. Like one small party. With death. And no music. Or partying." he said, drink slurring his words.

"Look Wallace, that's all well and good but... I don't think you're in the best state of mind to-"

"You want me to leave so you can have sex don't you?"

"Yes."

"Fine."


	11. Chapter 11

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **Two weeks... four weeks... same dif, right? Yes, I've been quite busy, and from here on out I will be giving more vague information on update times. Expect the next chapter some time between now and the end of physical existence. Oh, what's the point? I'm probably not even writing to anyone but myself at this point. Still no submissions.**

Scott Pilgrim

VS the mechanical monsters

-**Day after the last chapter ended, noon-ish-**

"What do you mean no?" Scott asked in disbelief, arms thrown out to his side.

"I mean no, you can't have your job back." Stephen responded, choosing to focus on his clipboard instead of Scott.

"Yeah, I get that part, but why? I've only been gone for a week man, there is no way you could have replaced me with someone even nearly as awesome!" Scott pouted, following Stills as he checked off several boxes on his paper.

"Can and did. If you didn't want to lose this job, why did you leave?" He asked, more out of genuine curiosity than out of spite.

"I already told you that it's super secret! Why can't I just get a janitor job, or hell, let me move some crates around! I just need money man!" Scott begged, Still's back facing him.

"Look, Scott, I don't want to make a big deal out of this, so I'll just say this: you were terrible at your job. Just... god awful. You couldn't make it past the rank of bus boy in over six months. I'm really sorry, but I just can't afford to hire you back." He said, scrawling some things on his clipboard.

"Wow Stephen Stills, you're a real ass now." Scott said dejectedly, turning to walk out the door.

Stephen sighed "Well, sometimes you gotta be if you want to succeed. Plus, I am actually sorry, I really am man." He said to Scott's back, finally looking up from his clipboard. Scott ignored his words, continuing to sulk out the door. What was he supposed to do now? If the assassins stopped coming, or if they slowed down their assault, then Scott may start losing more than he would be saving!

He pushed open the door and stepped out onto the street. He was about to turn and say something witty (or die trying!) when his eye a shape in the distance. Far down the street, a tiny grey dot approached hastily, growing from a dot, to a smudge, to a tiny grey man. Scott cursed, whipping out his new weapon. "Whoa, what is tha-!" Stephen was silenced when, with the push of a button, and a wish of pressurized air, the blade shot out, glowing a gnarly red. He stared in stunned shock at the weapon, at Scott, and at the fast approaching metal man. He had the brains not to question this (Probably something about Ramona's past) and instead ducked inside the store.

Now only 5 feet away, Scott could clearly make out the death machine. The metal man stood at 7 feet tall, thin and wiry, with a solid metal chest plate and visible, flexible metallic spinal column connecting its torso to its pelvis. The thing had a cylindrical head, with a single red eye on the end of it, connected via the same spine. The thing had the legs of a satyr, namely, bent in odd ways, and had four metal arms jutting out of its shoulders, with Long daggers rather than hands. The thing stood, twitching erratically as Scott held firm, unfazed at the things speed or weaponry.

After a few more moments of rapid twitching, the thing lunged, its four blades swinging in unison towards him from all directions. Scott leapt backwards towards the Happy Avocado, blades missing him by an excitingly small number. The thing hopped over and continued swinging, its arms moving in seemingly random, but well coordinated motions. Scott sidestepped this flurry of blows, knives skimming off his blade and through the Happy Avocado's window. Stills shielded himself from the cavalcade of shattered glass shards and cursed.

Scott, his enemy now out of position, swung at its torso, his blade whizzing as it tore through the air. The blade cracked and sparked at it collided with the metal frame, but failed to penetrate, instead simply scorching and denting its hull. Scott yelped as a blade swung at his neck, ducking just in time for another blade to come flying at him. He spun and hopped as the remaining blades were swung, all failing to injure the number 6 assassin. Scott stood as the death machine recalibrated, both trying to piece together a battle plan.

**TRANSITION!**

Dr. Prof. Willis watched intently as the two went at it, binoculars trained on the fighters as he spoke into a tape recorder "Subject Pilgrim shows unusual hesitation in his attacks, and seems to be withholding his full potential... odd. Nevertheless he fights with the skill of a master, and mien robot is having difficulty penetrating his defenses... hmm, it appears that the lower left arm is showing signs of malfunction, with a .15 second delay from the other arms. This will have to be repaired after the fight. Subject has yet to- Oh hell!"

**TRANSITION!**

Scott ducks under a rapid swing in a spinning motion, before lashing out at the machine's exposed metal spine. The Katana tears through the steel, sending oil splattering everywhere and ripping the droid in half! The torso slams into the ground with a clang as the legs stumble about aimlessly. The machines torso flailed around desperately in an attempt to right itself, but to no avail. Scott slammed his foot down onto its metal chest plate, and raised his sword, preparing to strike.

Just as he was about to finish it, the legs came back, round housing Scott off the body. Scott fell flat on his face as the machine finally managed to right itself, scurrying through the smashed window and into the Happy Avocado. Scott flipped onto his back and hopped to his feet, ready to chase down the torso, now skittering across the ground on its four metal arms like a wounded spider. Scott was about to leap after the torso when he noticed the legs rushing at him. They plodded forward as Scott nonchalantly stepped to the side and held his foot out.

The machine walked right into the ingenious trap, stumbling and falling to the ground. The legs kicked around feebly for a few minutes, trying to get themselves off the ground, but without success. With one last pathetic kick the legs lied motionless, deactivated. Scott chuckled a bit before leaping through the shattered window and pursuing the escaping torso. He burst through the kitchen door just as the machine crawled out the back, the door slowly swinging shut behind it.

Scott slammed through the door with his shoulder and was now in the alley behind the restaurant, the stench of rotting vegetables hanging heavily from the air. Scott scanned the back alley for his adversary, but it was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was about to give up and head home however, he felt a bit of mortar, no bigger than a pea, bounce off the back of his head. Turning around, he saw the kill-bot dragging its form over the ledge and onto the roof.

"Oh no you don't!" Scott said playfully as he deactivated his beam katana, before dragging a trashcan over to the wall. With two great leaps, he first leapt onto the trashcan, then shot himself onto the edge of the roof, his hands griping the ledge as his legs attempted to get purchase on the wall. With a great heave, Scott lifted himself over the ledge and rolled onto the roof. He righted himself as quickly as possible, as he saw the machine near the opposite side of the roof. Scott broke into a full sprint, the machine leaping off the roof right before Scott reached it. With his momentum, he threw himself into the air after the dastardly automaton, catching it mid flight and breaking its trajectory. Scott gripped the back of the bot tightly as they plummeted, the machine making no attempt to save itself, knowing its fate was locked in.

With a thunderous smash the two hit the ground, the attack bot crushing under it and Scott's combined weight. Its chest cavity crunched and sparked as it was forced into itself, metal pistons and rubber wires spewing out of the massive cracks in the frame. The head snapped back and flew off, the neck unable to take the weight. The arms twisted and broke at angles far beyond the designed limit, winding and writhing as the electrical signals died off. Scott light heartedly hopped off the robot, now squashed like a tin can. With a flick of his wrist he switched the beam Katana off and fastened it to his belt loop. He turned and saw Ramona standing there, mildly surprised, package in hand. "Oh, hey Rammy! I didn't think you would come to cheer me on!" Scott yelled, waving to his girlfriend.

"Oh, actually I was just... I mean yeah, good job killing that thing." she managed, barely avoiding a sad puppy moment. She rolled up to Scott, and they both looked inquisitively at the disabled minion. "So, was it a hard fight?" She asked, kicking one of the busted arms lightly with her booted toe, causing it to roll slowly away.

"Eh, not really. It was annoying because it was all armored and stuff, but in the end I jumped on it. And it exploded. And it was cool." Scott said pridefully, crossing his arms with a smug smile. That smile wouldn't last however, as Stephen stormed up to him, fury in his eyes as he stared daggers through Scott's face. "Hey, uh, Stephen Stills... Sorry about the uh, the-" he was cut off as a broom was shoved into his hands, Scott gripping it vacuously.

"7AM to 7PM, no employee benefits, minimum wage, no chance of promotion, got it?" Stephen fumed, finger between Scott's eyes.

"Uh, yeah, yeah of course. Thanks for the job." Scott said as stills walked towards the storefront. He held up a big middle finger (I guess he did pick something up from Kim.) before pointing to the mounds of shattered glass and whistling for Scott to get to work. Scott turned to Ramona "So... I got the job."

**Transition**

"Hm. It appears Attack-bot 1 has failed to defeat the number 6, and has been rendered inoperable. Scott was unorthodox in his method of attack, but it was nonetheless devastating." Dr. Prof. Willis paused, taking one last look through the binoculars, before speaking "This subject is most certainly an interesting one, and the readings I'm getting from mien scanner simply perplex me further. Despite unimpressive scores in strength, stamina, intelligence, wisdom, durability, and constitution, he has a fighting style highly conducive to his speed and swordsmanship. As well, his willpower is off the charts, one of the most determined men I have seen in my long years. This will most certainly be an interesting experiment, and I am very interested to see how this one shall fare against my attack-bots. Speaking of which..."

**LAST TRANSITION!**

It was just past eight when Scott Finally collapsed through the door. He sighed as his face planted into the floor, too tired to make a showing moan of pain. Ramona strode up to him, slowly sipping from a cup of lukewarm tea. "That bad?" she asked, taking a light sip as she sat next to Scott. Scott grumbled an incoherent answer and limply flopped his hand forward for Ramona to see. "Wow, beet red and cut to hell. I didn't think sweeping would be such a challenge for a renowned assassin." She said slightly sarcastically. Still, she ran her hand through his hair slowly, toying with it in silent thought.

Scott mumbled some half hearted protest, but quickly submitted as she continued to roll her fingers along his scalp, pleasure seeping from her caring motions. She smiled as Scott practically purred as she finished, shaking up his tangled locks before pulling away. "C'mon Scott, lets at least get some bandages on your hands. If you're going to be sleeping on OUR bed you're not going to be getting blood all over it." she said, pulling at Scott by the wrists.

Scott grunted in anguish as Ramona lifted him to his to his feet. Despite his tiredness, he was able to at least stand on his own. She led him to the bathroom, making sure to keep his slowly dribbling hands upturned the entire time to minimize clean up. Ramona had Scott sit on the lip of the bathtub as she drew out a half depleted roll of gauze. She instructed Scott to hold out his hands as she drew out some disinfectant. She blinked twice as he opened up his hands. The hand he hadn't shown, his left, was far worse, with many deep lacerations and shards still in the palm. "Geez Scott, did Stephen make you pick up the glass by hand?"

He spoke clearly but quietly "No... Broom broke... one hour in. I had to keep working with out it." He said as Ramona began disinfecting his wounds. He and Ramona both winced, and Scott took a sharp breath. Ramona tweezed out the remaining fragments before rinsing Scott's hands. Finally, she wrapped both his hands tightly in gauze.

Scott actually smiled. He looked into the mirror and flexed his hands, enjoying the new 'hand wrap' look. He bobbed on the balls of his feet and gave a few pretend punches, admiring how cool he now looked. Ramona rolled her eyes "You really are a total dork, aren't you?" she asked no one in particular.

He frowned "Nuh uh, I'm a totally tough techno assassin!" he pouted, crossing his arms and looking away... right into the mirror, were he continued to admire his cool new look.

"SUCH a dork." Ramona sighed, closing the medicine cabinet. She and Scott were about to head out for a late diner when CRASH! Like a rocket the second attack-bot tore through the roof, smashing into the hardwood floor with an ear splitting crunch. The metal beast stood on two thick chrome encrusted legs, with a thick barrel chest and two flame throwing arms. The robot rose from the ground into a standing position (At eight feet tall, it's dome shaped head poking through the ceiling) and raised its weapons at the couple.

Ramona drew her hammer in anger, as Scott activated his sword. Ramona's words were spat out through gritted teeth "Come after my dork on the street, fine. But you come after US, when we're on OUR home turf, when we're tired and one of us is hurt, you've gone too F-ing far. I'm sending you back to your good-as-dead master in a MILLION TINY FUCKING PIECES, YOU GOT THAT?!" Ramona roared, pointing at the bot accusingly as it idly set fire to the walls. She drew back her hammer and charged at the machine, Scott standing in stunned silence at his lover's ferocity.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's note: Massive herp-ady derp moment, had to redo part of this chapter due to idiocy. Thank you for your patience. **

Scott Pilgrim

Robot Rampage

Scott flopped heavily against the cheap bed he shared with Ramona, giving a long sigh as he recalled the events following. "Ugh, stupid robots and their stupid robot weak points. Why couldn't I just fight this Willy guy and move on? Instead I have to blow up all of these dumb mini-bosses. And since they have such long opening cut scenes they're allowed to break so much of the environment!" Scott whined, rolling over to face Ramona, who was idly toying with a necklace in the mirror.

"Ugh, can you go like, five seconds without freaking complaining? Jeez! Plus I think you should be grateful. If we didn't have giant robot attack insurance we would have had to pay for the house repairs ourselves!" she argued, fiddling with the shoelace as she looked herself over.

Scott whipped an accusing finger at her "Which you said we didn't need! And you said that giant robot attack insurance was a scam!" he said smugly, grinning at his own foresight.

"Which at one point I may or may not have claimed was unnecessary, yes." she feebly defended, turning to face Scott. She plopped down onto the bed next to him. "Ugh, dude, just be quiet. We've been up for the better part of 24 hours; I'd like to get some sleep before I have to head into work... speaking of which it's like, 6:53 man." she said, tiredly peering at the clock on the nightstand.

Scott raised an eyebrow "So? It's not like I have anything going o-... OH CRAP, MY NEW JOB!" he boomed, leaping out of bed and sprinting out the door. Ramona rolled over and tucked herself under the covers. As she began to close her eyes and drift off to a subspace dreamland, she spotted something on the ground.

"Huh, Scott's weird energy sword. He probably is going to need that." she thought, her eyes continuing to close "Eh, I'll get it to him in five minutes..." was her last thought before finally submitting to sleep.

**Time for a TRANSITION!**

Stephen Stills looked at his watch and scowled. It was 6:59 and 45 seconds, and Scott had yet to arrive. This was unsurprising to Stephen, who was just about to put up a new "Now hiring" sign when a figure burst from the alley, panting in exhaustion.

Stills raised his eyebrows in surprise "Huh, you actually showed up… exactly on time." He said, noting the beep from his watch. Scott gasped for air and slumped against a tree, weakly holding up a bandaged thumb and grinning in accomplishment. Stills rolled his eyes "Yeah yeah, you managed to keep your new job for ONE DAY. Don't think that makes us even." he replied, handing Scott a mop "Now go clean out the store room... and DON'T BREAK THE MOP." Scott marched merrily to the back and began his tedious labor happily.

**WHAT TIME IS IT?! It's not 27 o'clock. It's TRANSITION TIME!**

Ramona grumbled as she laced up her skates, still tired after a full hour and seven minutes of sleep. She screwed up one of the knots and had to do it again. "F!" She cursed to herself as she went to tie it back up. After a few moments she heard the first stomp of a robot. Ramona leapt to her feet and ran to the railing of the second story walkway. The stomping grew in volume, the ground shook from the weight, and car alarms were set off. Finally, the mechanical mailman of Dr. Prof. Willis came into view, plodding around the side of the building and over the dead shrubs in front of the motel's parking lot.

Ramona slid down the railing and Skated up to the mech. A pause, as the mech comes to a halt. "Ramona V Flowers?" the tinny voice asked, to which Ramona nodded. A loud electric whirring was heard as one of the thinner barrels inside the robot's "hands" lit up. After several moments, a loud "Ping" is heard and a small roll of paper on a stick slides out of the tube. Ramona nods in appreciation and takes the note, reading it aloud:

_Dear Girlfriend of the number six assassin,_

_I am very concerned with your intrusion of my affairs with the number 6 assassin, aka your boyfriend. The way you dismantled my death machine was rude and invasive, and I have decided that you cannot be allowed to continue meddling in my affairs._

_ Sincerely, Dr. Prof. Robert Nikolai Willis_

Ramona frowned and rolled her eyes "Hey, tell your boss I only intruded because he crashed one of his stupid machines through my ceil-" she stops talking when she realizes no one is their to listen. "Dang, how the heck did I miss him stomping off? Oh, there's a back side to this note. _PS. Turn around!_" Ramona complies.

She only has a second to react as a giant robot, marked with the number "3" fires at her, capturing her in a massive steel net. Ramona struggles to free herself, but to no avail. As the massive machine approaches, she whips out her orange subspace bag.

**Transitional words are for chumps!**

Scott breathes a sigh of relief as he slumps against the wall, his first 15 minute break of the day gloriously arriving after 3 hours of menial labor and he had already wasted five minutes of it. He had to hop through a few subspace doors at the beginning of break to grab his beam katana from home. Oddly though Ramona wasn't there, even though she wasn't supposed to be at work until noon... Scott pushed these thoughts aside, thinking she probably went to get breakfast or something. He slides down the wall onto his rear and pulls out his cell phone. He starts up a free copy of Puck-man and begins to screw about. After only a minute however, he gets a call from a number he doesn't recognize. He declines and continues playing his Puck-man. A mere thirty seconds later the number pops up again, much to Scott's annoyance. He declines the call and tries to push the annoyance back, since he only has fourteen minutes to himself. The phone rings a third time.

Scott growled and accepted the call "What do you want?" he asked in frustration.

A German voice comes from the speaker adjacent to Scott's ear "Come outside number six, I have something to show you." Scott leaps to his feet and sprints out the door... only to see nothing out of the ordinary, just some cars, a few staring pedestrians, and... a shadow. Scott looks up to see a large craft currently blotting out the sun. The vehicle was spherical, approximately 20 feet across, with stubby wings and jet engines jutting out of opposite sides. A megaphone attached to the unseen top of the vehicle blares to life, and the same German voice giddily declares "Number six, I have something important of yours, something I think you'll want back."

Static is heard as the microphone is moved from his lips to a pair near him "Help, please help!" came Ramona's panicked voice. Scott gasped as the ship began to speed up, engines revving. It began to barrel down the street, the craft floating just above the buildings on either side of the road.

Scott activated his beam katana before charging after the flying carrier. As he ran however, he heard Stills call from behind him "You've got eight minutes and thirty two seconds, better make this quick." Scott gave a thumb's up as he bolted down the center of the road after the ship. He sprinted full force behind the ship, arms back and sword clenched tight as he tried to make up the gap between them. Scott narrowly evaded a car as it screeched to a halt before him, his beam katana scraping a narrow scorch line across the vehicles side.

His heart beat like a jackhammer as he neared the rear of the craft, knowing the stakes if he screwed this up. He got just under the back and saw his chance; with a timed leap he sent himself onto the roof of a nearby car, then, using his velocity, launched himself into the air at the jet's rear. As he neared it however, a loud clanging of metal is heard, followed by a series of deep rattles. The belly of the ship had opened up, and out came a large swinging ball of steel, checkered pattern whirling as it careened towards him! Scott didn't have any rings to spare, and with a curse air dodged back onto the ground, knowing that if he grabbed onto the ship the ball would have hit him.

The ball swung pendulously as the ship flew on, the suspiciously long straight road offering no obstacles. Scott weaved himself back and forth between the wrecking ball and the swerving traffic, avoiding the spiraling steel hunks of death as he slowly made his way to the front of the ship. He finally made his way past the ship, the pod now fully behind him. With one last pant he leapt, into the air, the ball spinning under him narrowly, and swung his katana. With a sizzling sound closer to a snap than anything else, the blade severed the chain halfway, sending the ball crashing into the ground. It rolled for several dozen feet, slowly losing velocity, before thudding harmlessly into a tree. As for the ship, the mangled chain retracts and the doors close, the removed weight causing it to speed up. Scott cursed as it pulled ahead of him, canopy opening. An ancient looking scientist type pops his head out, laughing through a megaphone as Scott struggles to keep up. "Bad move number six! With all that weight dropped you'll never-"

Dr. Prof. Robert Nikolai Willis was stopped mid sentence as his craft scrapped over the railing of a flat rooftop as the street finally turned off. This small scrap however caused the craft to wobble unsteadily as it flew forward. The front struck the railing on the opposite side, and the vehicle spun forward helplessly, its passenger screaming in horror as it lurched forward. A heavy smash is heard, followed by billowing smoke as the pod crashes out of Scott's view. Scott has no time to waste and using the last of his energy charges around the building towards the wreckage.

Scott frantically scanned the eviscerated carcass of the flying pod, metal scraps and jet fragments scattered about the pavement as pedestrians began whipping out their smart phones. Scott tears into the wreckage, flipping hunks of aluminum and slashing apart burning wads of steel, praying that Ramona lay alive under some of the debris. He made his way to the ship's now vacated cockpit began ripping apart the insides in search of a hidden compartment when a cough echoes behind him. He flips around and to his horror spies Ramona, pinned under a chunk of engine and with a metal rod piercing her sternum.

Scott rushes to her side and desperately struggles to lift the jet frame off of her "It's okay, everything is okay, you're going to be okay, everything..." he spoke mostly to himself, as Ramona's eyes barely fluttered in response. Tears began to flow as the engine refused to move, and Ramona's eyes began to flicker out. "No, don't go!" Scott said through a strained throat. He cradled Ramona's head, sobbing as she let out her last breath. "Please, PLEASE don't go... just a few more minutes... just a few..."

Scott's eyes shoot open as a voice is heard "Scott, what happened, what's going on?" He couldn't believe it, it couldn't be true. He turned and nearly passed out as Ramona, in the flesh, nearly unharmed (though slightly bruised) stood before him, a concerned and questioning look plastered on her dumbfounded face. Scott didn't think, just acted, throwing himself at her and wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could, as Ramona awkwardly awaited an answer.

"RAMONA! I thought you were dead! I thought you died in the crash!" Scott proclaimed exuberantly, twisting her around in his vice like grip.

"Umm... no? Why would you think that?" She inquired.

"...Because you just died... like, two feet away." Scott replied, pointing at dead Ramona. "Wait... two Ramonas?! How the-"

The pinned Ramona's eyes lit up again, now a deep red. Near effortlessly, she tossed the jet aside, the massive steel pieces grinding along the pavement. She stood slowly, her legs damaged by the weight of the jet. A hunk of mangled skin flapped uselessly on previously dead Ramona's shin and she acted decisively, tearing off the useless meat to reveal metal pistons, carbon alloy supports and copper wiring. Lastly, this Ramona gripped the metal pipe piercing its body with both hands and deliberately shoved it further in, up to the last six inches, before reaching around and pulling out the whole rod, tossing it aside without a thought as oil slowly trickled from the open wound.

Scott gasped "Oh my god, it's-"

**ROBORAMMY! (-10 to SCOTT'S psyche)**

Ramona rolled her eyes "You seriously didn't mourn the death of a robotic doppelganger designed to draw you out and kill you, did you?" She asked rhetorically, to which Scott simply shook his head. "Whatever, I'll bag on you for that later. For now, let's just kill this bot and get it over with." She groaned, reaching into her subspace bag.

She is stunned when Scott grabbed her arm, stopping her. "No, you sit this one out. If the two of you fight we'll have to do an obligatory scene whereby I'll lose track of which you is you and have to make a snap decision on which to kill, and I hate that cliché." he said, turning to face the imposter alone.

Ramona raised her eyebrow incredulously "But... You... that thing has a big ass hole in its chest, you're telling me that your really wouldn't be able to spot the fricking difference?"

Scott paused "I'm not a very clever man." he responded.

Ramona threw her hands up "Whatever, fine. Kill this stupid robot all by yourself."

He slowly and deliberately raised his beam katana, stepping into a fighting stance as the machine stood motionless. Finally ready, Scott charges at the thing. Robo-Ramona reels back and throws a devastating straight, pistons whirring and hydraulics pumping just below the scratched surface. Scott slides under the punch and shoulder tackles the imposter, sending both toppling to the ground. The bot lands hard, head smacking into the cement sidewalk brutally. Scott raised his sword to finish her, but is stopped when Robo-Rammy lifts its leg between the two, plants it in Scott's center of mass and kicks, sending Scott flying back.

He rolls roughly on the ground and comes to a stop by the burning cockpit, struggling to his feet as the doppelganger staggers onto its. Scott runs at it again, this time trying a jump in swipe. The blade slices through only the air, and as Scott lands the robot lashes out, balling its fists and throwing them down in an over handed strike. Scott slips out of the way and counters to little avail, the android swiveling away before leaping back with a flurry of powerful kicks. Scott and the android trade attacks, however neither is able to deal lethal damage, skimming and bruising the other without lethal exchange. Scott hops out of the battle to catch his failing breath, but is followed swiftly by the android, which lacks the capacity for fatigue.

Scott is forced onto the defensive as the machine advances into him, forcing him back towards the wreckage. Scott falls onto his rear to evade a nearly decapitating straight punch, and is soon showered with sparks. For a few moments, nothing happens. Then, Scott opens his eyes. The android Ramona's hand has punched clean through the side of the busted cockpit, however in doing so it has inadvertently torn through several layers of live wiring. The Robot's eyes flicker and its legs buckle as it forms a circuit, electricity coursing through its frame in levels far beyond its capacity.

Scott's eyes widen and he forces himself to roll away, knowing what is to come. Just as he reached safety, the android predictably explodes, sending mechanical limbs and severed servos flying in all directions. One of the machine's eyes rolls over to Scott's foot, sending signals to a nonexistent brain. Scott stands up and smiles, looking into the evil eye as he lifts his foot. He happily stomps down, shattering the thin aluminum and glass.

Hey Ramona, did you see that? That was intense!" Scott said, deactivating shaking his sword back up before deactivating it.

"Hmm. Yeah. Scott, I don't really know how to say this, so I'll just say it: he got me." Ramona responded sheepishly. Scott turned to her and saw that she had indeed been captured (for real this time!) Dr. Prof. Robert etc. stood behind her, bleeding profusely with one arm wrapped around Ramona's neck and the other holding a strange ray gun under her chin.

The doctor spoke slowly and deliberately, his teeth gritted in rage. "It seems that you were more than a match for my automatons number six. You are far stronger than you seem. This would not be a problem; however with all the damage you have caused, I am hemorrhaging too much money to keep my castle running and send out more robots. That's no good. So, listen up boy, and I may just let the girl live." He pushed the gun roughly into Ramona's neck.

"Scott, just listen to what he says, okay." Ramona said to Scott's disbelief. It was only after this that Scott saw her wink, realizing that she had a plan. Scott nodded, pretending to agree.

"First... Scott, right?" the doctor asked, looking over Ramona's shoulder. Scott nodded and he proceeded "First Scott, I'm going to need you to drop your sword, SLOWLY." He pointed the gun at Scott, motioning him to lay down his katana. Scott slowly crouched, stretching out his arm to set the blade down. Just as he was about to let go, Ramona made her move. With a grunt she threw her head back, cracking Willis in the nose hard enough to draw blood. Willis cursed as Ramona shoved herself away from him, leaving Scott a clear line of advance.

Scott activated his weapon and sprinted at the downed Scientist, covering the distance quickly. Robert, gripping his nose tightly, raised his gun and fired off a shot at Scott's center of mass, sending a green bolt of energy right at him. Scott swung perfectly and caught the shot midflight, sending it flying back at Dr. Willis. He only had time to give a short shriek of horror before the bolt hit him square in the chest. With a sizzle and a crack the doctor turned a shade of radioactive green before exploding into a cloud of dust. As Scott deactivated his Katana, Ramona, strutting to his side, a single letter addressed "6" slowly fluttered to the ground.


End file.
